Till Death Do Us Part
by AkashaTheKitty
Summary: A killer is on the loose, preying on Muggle-born witches marrying pure-blood wizards. This calls for an elaborate - or rather simple, really - scheme!
1. Chapter 1

**Author Notes:** I'm not sure whether I should thank or curse ponekad for their artwork which resulted in this monster. I'll leave that up to the readers to decide. I'd also like to thank my betas, MazVN & Little Dollface, for working so quickly. Any mistakes that linger are completely their fault, as I am above reproach. ;D Finally, a fair warning: There are mentions of past infidelity which could be upsetting to some. Proceed at your own risk. Also, beware of an unsubtle exploitation of various clichés!

**This is a repost of a fic written for a fest months ago.** It's based on a beautiful piece of art linked in my profile. It is 15 chapters long, but I won't spam those on alert with it all at once. If you must know what happens next, go to Hawthorn & Vine, linked in my profile, to read the full fic. Thank you.

* * *

Draco slowly let his gaze slide over the serious faces in front of him, trying to figure out if this was some sort of elaborate prank. 'You're kidding, right?' he finally asked when nobody volunteered any further information.

'You have no idea how much we wish we were.' Potter did that extremely annoying thing where he ran his hand through his hair, making it all stand on end. 'We're out of options here.'

Draco leant back in his seat and let his gaze rest on Weasley. He looked put off, but then again, he always looked put off around Draco. Weasley didn't really seem to have much to add today, though, which was new. He usually loved to make inane digs whenever Draco was forced to check in at the Ministry. Right now, however, he was just determinedly staring at his own hands, placed on the large, simple wooden desk before him.

The wankers had literally forced Draco to come down to the Ministry for an extraordinary meeting under the terms of his probation for _this_?

'And I don't suppose you're really giving me a choice about it,' Draco concluded, everything considered.

Potter shrugged but avoided eye-contact. 'Things could get more difficult for you if you declined,' he admitted. 'But they'd also get vastly easier for you if you should choose to cooperate.'

Draco had to snort at that. Obviously they had very different ideas about what constituted "easy". He looked over at Granger. She'd been even more quiet than Weasley, just sitting there, positively oozing steely determination and self-sacrifice. It was nauseating. 'Aren't you going to say anything?' he asked her.

She blinked as if confused to be addressed but didn't get a chance to reply before Potter cut in, 'Hermione already agreed,' he said. 'Catching and convicting this perpetrator is our number one priority.'

'Things really changed around here, didn't they?' Draco asked. 'I never thought I'd see the day when _Granger_ of all people couldn't answer a simple question on her own.'

Potter's cheeks went slightly pink. 'Don't try to toy with us, Malfoy. What'll it be?'

Draco looked at Granger once more. She looked about as happy as he felt. 'What was I getting for my troubles, again?' he asked.

Weasley finally seemed to have become bored with his hands because he looked up and sneered. 'You'll be bloody free from us, Malfoy. Isn't that enough?'

He did crave freedom from the constant scrutiny of the Department of Magical Law like he craved nothing else, but he wasn't sure that it _would_ be enough. 'What about my trust fund?' he asked.

Potter shook his head. 'I can't touch that. You know it's tied up until we're sure that it's all legit.'

It had already been tied up for years, and the way things were going, Draco wasn't sure he was ever going to see any of it again. 'Give it back to me and we have a deal.'

'He just told you he can't!' Weasley hissed.

Granger cleared her throat. 'I... um... I think that if you file a request, you could get at least a partial release of... of his means due to the extent of his cooperation and the fact that he's showing willingness to... reform at the expense of his personal comfort.' She grimaced as if she'd bit into something very unpleasant.

'A partial release would be a good start,' Draco immediately said.

Potter growled. 'Fine. I'll file a request for ten percent of your frozen assets to be released.'

'I wasn't thinking _that_ partial. If I have to do what you want me to do, it'll take money. Lots of it. And I'm not spending everything I'm getting on this scheme, either. I'll need extra for that.' He glanced at Granger, who paled and looked like she was going to be sick.

They were very much in agreement about the desirability of Potter's plan, then.

'Ask for twenty percent now with another forty percent at completion, requiring Malfoy to sign that he's giving up the remainder,' Granger said, her eyes fixed on the table in front of her.

'I'm not giving up anything!' Draco objected.

She looked up to pin him with her stare. 'Right now, all the money is lost. If you do as Harry asks and show some goodwill, you may get up to sixty percent granted. If you dig in your heels, you will get nothing. Do you understand? The Ministry wants to keep the money, and currently they very well can.'

Draco bit back a retort and looked away. She was right. The bureaucrats had swooped in like vultures at the very first chance they got and had locked down every account the Malfoys had in Gringotts. Fortunately, they'd had accounts and valuables in various other places, but they still currently had problems maintaining the illusion of grandeur. The manor was in need of repairs that Draco hadn't been able to provide with his own wand, but they simply couldn't afford to fix it. Just _living_ in a manor was bloody expensive. And the grounds... they had barely been maintained at all for the last two years.

'You sure he should even get that much, Hermione?' Potter said, his voice laced with doubt. Even this git wanted to keep the money, it seemed. Bloody priceless. Robbing someone of their entire life savings in the name of justice and the law was apparently fine with these "heroes".

Granger shrugged as if she had no opinion of her own. 'We need him. If he's not motivated, we'll never succeed. I say give him whatever he wants to make it happen.'

It was all Draco could do not to smile to himself at that. Insane plans aside, he liked the idea that these people needed him and were willing to go out of their way to please him to get his help. And it really looked like he might get some of his money back soon! Sixty percent was still a substantial sum. Then he could take it and _finally_ leave the country and start a new life for himself. He'd been wanting to do that for years, but the terms of his probation and his lack of finances had kept him right here in England to be scoffed at by both Hero and Villain alike.

'You really want to catch this bugger, don't you?' he asked Granger without even attempting to hide the smugness in his voice.

She shot him an extremely annoyed look. 'You're only just realising that now? Did you miss the part where I have willingly agreed to _marry you_?'

* * *

Hermione's stomach heaved and she swallowed hard so she wouldn't lose her breakfast. It was quite stupid, really. Smiling at Malfoy and pretending to be infatuated with him wasn't repulsive enough to warrant such a violent physical reaction, but, nevertheless, she'd been feeling ill ever since the idea had come up a few days ago.

There would be a public wedding. To Malfoy.

She couldn't even begin to describe how much that upset her. She couldn't begin to explain it either. She couldn't remember ever having given much thought to anything wedding- or happily-ever-after-related, but to know that people would think she was marrying Malfoy of her own free will! It was upsetting and nauseating and crushing and a dozen other things, none of them pleasant. Not to mention that any wedding after this would be tainted with the memory of the first one, even if the first one would - fortunately - be a complete fake, a setup to catch a killer.

Harry had, however, admitted to her when he'd asked that this was his very last resort, and if this didn't help them stop the murders, he didn't know that anything could. He'd said they might actually have to put a temporary ban on pure-blood/Muggle-born marriages for people's own safety. If that happened, the murderer would win. He would have terrorised their whole society into submitting to his bigoted beliefs, and that was _not_ something Hermione could live with.

'Whoa, whoa!' Malfoy held up his hands. 'I thought you said this wouldn't be real? It would just be a sham?'

Hermione took some pleasure in noting the brand new green tinge to his pallor at the idea that it might be a real wedding.

Harry had frowned and now glanced at Hermione, his concern evident. 'It is,' he said. 'Except that for all intents and purposes, everyone will believe it's real. Every single person not present in this room will believe it. That means all your friends, all your co-workers, all your family-'

Malfoy sat up straight so fast he must have pulled something. 'Family? You mean to say-?'

'Yes,' Hermione quietly said. 'Our parents. They'll be there, and they will believe every second of it. And they'll believe every second of what comes after as well, until we either catch the killer or call off the scheme.'

He violently shook his head. 'No. Just... no! I am not fooling my parents into thinking I'm marrying a Muggle-born!'

Hermione didn't answer. Her mother would be giving her "the talk", gleefully ignoring that Hermione hadn't exactly lived a sheltered life, and her father would be giving her away. They would be so happy for her. And she had to do it with _Malfoy_. She looked over at Ron and caught him looking back at her. He'd wanted to do the scheme with her. Ron was, however, a known, vocal blood traitor, plus he was a known active Auror, even if he'd been on an extended sick leave lately, trying to recover from his last case. They simply weren't sure he'd draw out the maniac. Also, Hermione really wasn't at all certain that faking a wedding with him was the best of ideas on a personal level. It would be too difficult to explain to him why she didn't want to make it real without putting another dent in their friendship. So, instead, now Hermione would be misleading almost everyone she loved best, "marrying" someone she actually didn't like on any level.

It would be worth it, though. They would catch this killer, and that in itself would be... worth it. People would live. Her parents would understand once she explained it all. There would be plenty of first times for other things. It was no big deal.

It was just going to be a sham and not _really_ her first wedding. She could pretend to like Malfoy. She really could.

* * *

Draco sat, ramrod straight, and stared at Granger, who was sitting at the other side of the table in the cozy, yet - of course - pricey, restaurant. She looked about as comfortable as he felt, her hands in her lap, and her gaze anywhere but on him. He couldn't believe what they were supposed to be pretending to do. He couldn't believe the schedule they were on, either. A couple of weeks of fake dating, and then he was supposed to stage a rather public proposal, followed by an insanely rushed engagement to lead up to an impossibly extravagant wedding, leading to a honeymoon in a remote, relatively isolated yet still common location that they wouldn't tell him about.

'Can you tell me anything about this mission of yours, then?' he asked, most of all to break the silence.

'It's confidential,' she muttered.

'Considering that I'm helping you and probably risking my _life_ to do so, I think I earned the right to know a little,' he insisted.

She finally looked at him. 'Ok. Someone appears to _really_ disapprove of pure-blood wizards marrying either Muggles or Muggle-born witches, because whenever they do, the Muggle-related end up dead, except in the one case where it was the pure-blood who died in defence of his bride, who was saved by the timely interference of a Hit Wizard. We don't have enough clues to catch him and, frankly, there aren't that many weddings of the kind. So we're staging this one.'

He shot her an appalled look. 'So I _am_ putting my life on the line here!'

Hermione shook her head. 'No. This is why you're "marrying" _me_. Even though my actual job is much more docile than Harry and Ron's, I'm actually a trained Hit Wizard, who can both secure the criminal and keep you safe. And they've assigned another Hit Wizard and an Auror to keep us both safe on the honeymoon. They'll mostly stay hidden, but remember that even they need to be convinced that our union is real.'

'How do you know it's a "he"? It could be a witch.'

'It could be. Except a Hit Wizard saw him last time when she tried to capture him and he attacked her with a knife. She's the one assigned to our case, actually.'

'I see. And you just happen to be a Hit Wizard too, huh? I always thought you were a paper-pusher. I've never seen you when I've been called down to Magical Law to check in.'

She frowned at him in that swotty Granger way. 'I am not a paper-pusher. I do important work. But as for me being a Hit Wizard, it's a long story, involving Harry and Ron getting a little too high on testosterone and bragging a little too loudly about their qualifications. I finished training in record time just to shut them up, but I never had any interest in actually working the job.'

'So... you have no experience?' Draco wrinkled his nose.

She pursed her lips. 'Well... there was this one Wizarding War, if you'll remember...'

'Great.' He grimaced. 'And how do you know that _I'm_ not the killer?'

'I don't,' she calmly replied. 'But we considered the possibility and found it highly unlikely. Besides, if you'd like to kill me, I think you should be allowed to try.'

Personally, Draco didn't feel like one had to be a serial killer in order to want to kill Hermione Granger, but maybe that was just his experience. 'How many of these do you reckon we'll need before making the announcement?' he asked without further comment. By "these", he meant awkward pseudo-dates.

She shrugged and grimaced. 'Enough to convince people that we've fallen madly, passionately in love.'

He snorted. Right. Granger wasn't particularly his type on any level. 'For anyone to buy that, you'd have to... upgrade a bit,' he informed her, mostly to be a nuisance. He sincerely doubted that "upgrading" would help much.

She stared at him. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

He indicated her form. 'Apart from liking my witches pure-blood, I also like them stylish. You need to invest in robes that suit you better and maybe get a haircut that doesn't look like you did it yourself.'

She gaped and then snapped her mouth shut, narrowing her eyes at him. 'There's nothing wrong with the way I dress _or_ the way I look. You'll just have to pretend to be over your shallowness!'

'Yeah, I don't think I can do that,' he said with a dismissive wave.

Hermione got to her feet. 'You think you can say whatever you want because we need you, don't you?'

He smirked. He knew he could. She was very much out of luck if she thought there was any way he wouldn't bother her as much as he could until this was over.

She smiled back at him and leant over the table to whisper. 'Just remember that if you're not useful, you'll get no money and I might just find an excuse to send you back to Azkaban myself. You think I won't? That I'm too honourable? Have you even _met_ me? I'm very... goal-oriented.'

His smirk froze. 'You wouldn't.'

She was still smiling. 'Obstruction of justice, Malfoy. If you get in my way, you will feel the consequences. Help me achieve my goal and we'll become fast friends to our mutual benefit. Your choice.'

This wasn't the way he remembered Hermione Granger at all! She hadn't always been this vindictive... had she? He hadn't quite found his tongue before she was gone, leaving him to pay for two untouched meals.

* * *

Hermione stalked through the vast, expensively decorated room that had been referred to as Malfoy's "office" and dumped her armful of packages on his desk. When he simply frowned up at her from the chair he'd never got up from, she placed her palms on the desk and leant forward. 'What is this?' she growled.

He raised an eyebrow. 'It looks like it's you imposing on me in my own home, rudely cluttering up my desk, and adopting a confrontational stance without having been provoked.'

She ignored his pretentious ignorance. 'Do you realise what the penalty for attempting to bribe a Ministry official on duty is?'

'Ah,' he said, glancing at the boxes again. 'So that's what you're about. But it's not a bribe. It's my condition to do this scheme, remember?'

'I already told you to deal with-'

'I'm facing enough ostracising and ridicule as it is, Granger. I have standards. Upgrading to them is fairly simple - just wear the clothes and present yourself pleasantly. I know you can do it; I've seen you at formal functions. And after we're done, just donate the clothes to someone in dire need, if such a person can be found. I don't see the issue here.'

Hermione scowled. If it had been a more reasonable request, she'd probably have gone along with it, but as it was, he was telling her that it was only socially acceptable for him to be seen with a Muggle-born if she pampered her looks as if she had nothing else to take pride in? It was disgusting. 'The issue is that I morally object to your shallow terms.'

He merely shrugged. 'Object all you like as long as you do it.'

She took a good long look at him. He was really digging in his heels on this issue, wasn't he? She was very much tempted to do the same, but the fact of the matter was that she had to pick her battles with him or risk getting nowhere. She just wanted this whole thing to be over and done with.

'Fine,' she abruptly said. 'But then you must make one concession for me as well.'

'I will not dress as a Weasley.'

'Ha. Ha. No. Your house-elf. The one that let me in? Release her.'

He grimaced. 'You still on about house-elves, Granger? No. She's happy here. Besides, I can't clean a damn mansion by myself.'

'Then _hire_ someone; I don't care. You could even pay the house-elf if you want. But she's to be freed. Nobody would believe that I would marry a wizard who would keep house-elves.'

They held a glaring contest.

'You'll doll up every single day, then,' he finally bit out.

'I'll doll up for our meetings,' she agreed. They probably wouldn't be able to meet every single day as she had to keep up a front at work and he had to... well, she wasn't sure what it was that he did, but she assumed he had to keep doing it.

'No.' He shook his head. 'If others run into you when you're not with me, they must still find you passably attractive and polished enough to fit a Malfoy. It's the only way they will even remotely be able to excuse my behaviour.'

'And who will excuse my behaviour, then?' she growled. 'I don't see you living up to my ideal of a wizard.'

He merely smiled at her. 'Just tell them I'm _really_ good in bed.'

She couldn't help but laugh at that. In fact, she laughed so hard that he began looking annoyed. 'Sorry,' she finally managed to wheeze, 'but that _really_ won't convince anyone.'

'I think people will be just as convinced that you find me appealing in bed as they will that I find you appealing at all,' he snapped.

She pursed her lips and nodded. 'You're right. You're absolutely right. So, as of now, you need to fake a change.'

He stared at her. 'What?'

'A change. A sudden sympathy for the plight of the Muggle-born and other oppressed groups.'

He leant back, crossing his arms. 'This isn't funny.'

'Didn't mean it to be. You're going with me to the fundraiser for abandoned half-human children in a couple of days.'

'To the fund- oh, come on! There can't be too many abandoned half-breeds!'

'Half-_humans_! And there are more than you'd think due to insensitive, privileged gits like you!'

He sighed very deeply. 'I suppose I'm expected to donate as well?'

She bared her teeth at him in what she couldn't quite make into a smile. 'Just be happy I don't make you adopt one.'

* * *

Draco looked around, feeling uncomfortable. This wasn't his scene. This _really_ wasn't his scene. The place looked posh enough with formalwear and champagne flutes on floating trays, but the appeal was ruined by all the decked out half-breeds mingling with the benefactors. The people setting this thing up should _know_ that most witches and wizards didn't mind giving money to a good cause, but they never wanted to be _near_ the thing they were paying to help. Nobody wanted to be close to ugliness.

Half-human children, indeed. He shuddered. Revolting.

'Fancy meeting you here, Malfoy!'

Draco jolted but then swiftly put on his social smile before looking at the person who had approached him. It was Cyrus Gamp. Lovely. Draco hadn't considered that other pure-bloods might be here tonight to pay lip service to this idiotic cause.

'Hello, Gamp,' he politely greeted. 'What brings you here?'

The older wizard shrugged and took another long drink from his glass. 'I imagine what brings you here as well, Malfoy,' he finally said. 'This is the price of respectability these days.'

'I know.' Draco wrinkled his nose at what could only be a half-troll girl giggling a few feet over. 'There are so many _real_ orphans after the war. I'd imagine they'd put some effort into taking care of them instead of this circus,' he said.

'And what exactly do you mean by that?' Granger's cool voice asked from behind him.

Draco flinched. Of all the people to sneak up on him and hear... He slowly turned back around.

'Oh, look! My wife wants me,' Gamp hurriedly said. 'Nice seeing you again, Malfoy. Miss Granger.'

Acknowledging Muggle-born in public was, after all, another price of respectability these days.

Granger didn't even return Gamp's greeting but was still looking at Draco expectantly.

'You know what I meant,' he said, making no excuses.

She crossed her arms over her chest. She'd actually followed his directions and worn new robes today, he noted. It was still a discreet colour and cut, but at least it hinted that there might be something worth investigating underneath. That would suffice. A Malfoy wouldn't propose to a tart either, after all. Her modesty could be worth something. Although, she really could do with a haircut and a manicure.

'No, I really don't,' she replied. 'How are these not real orphans? They are children without parents!'

Draco grimaced. 'Sure. But why do we have to take care of them? They don't belong here. Let the trolls and goblins and giants take care of their own!'

She had bared her teeth at him as she heard him speak. 'They are just as much outcasts there as they are here,' she hissed. 'And we are supposed to be more _civilised_ than the trolls and the giants!'

'But the kids won't _become_ civilised! This is the house-elf thing all over again. You're trying to save creatures by imposing your own values on them.'

She shook her head. 'This won't work.' Then she turned around and walked off.

It took Draco a minute to realise that she wasn't going to finish the conversation with him and then it took another minute for it to dawn on him that he might've just lost his fortune. Again. Groaning, he went in the general direction that she'd left, hoping to find her and talk some sense into her head. It took him a good fifteen minutes before he finally found her outside with her back to him, leaning her hands on a railing.

'Those robes can't be very warm,' he said, not sure how to start the conversation. 'Where's your cloak?'

'Go away, Malfoy,' she replied.

'We always knew we wouldn't agree. We just have to pretend it doesn't matter.'

She slowly turned around. 'I can't pretend that well.'

'So I will keep my mouth shut and donate,' he said with a shrug.

She shook her head. 'I can't believe I ever thought I could even _pretend_ to marry someone like you. It won't work. You're much too self-centered.'

'That's not fair! You're just pushing the wrong causes on me. Aren't there more relevant fundraisers you could-?'

'Relevant? Fair?' she hissed, taking a step towards him. 'It's people like _you_ who make it virtually impossible to create lives for half-humans - half-Veelas notwithstanding. Half-goblins are too small, half-giants are too big, half-trolls are too ugly, and half-vampires are too scary. But people are not just the sum of their blood _or_ their race, Malfoy. A five-year-old half-human is still a five-year-old child, and people are _constantly_ treating them like hideous monsters, when they are really just scared children. If I could've made you see that, then I would've had hope for _your_ humanity. As it is, I think it's fairly clear who's the monster here.'

With that, she made her second grand departure.

Draco found himself still repulsed at the thought of the small half-troll, but now he felt a little bad about it. And very annoyed.

That Granger had always been such a nuisance and now she was going to make him work for his money too?


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Ugh. FFnet, how I loathe thee and thy ability to strip any kind of formatting that makes sense from my writing... I think I replaced chapter one three times. If you find any more problems... eh, bah. I got better things to do with my time.

* * *

'This won't do! It's not good enough!' Harry curtly opened the conversation. He'd called both Malfoy and Hermione in for this meeting with very little notice and Hermione didn't find it hard to guess why, considering their lack of progress.

'Well, hello to you too...' Malfoy drawled from his seat across the table.

'Shut up!' Harry snapped. 'You've been seen twice together in public. _Twice._ In a whole week. And both times, all you did was fight. You couldn't even fake making up? We're on a tight schedule here!'

Hermione looked down. Harry was right. It was selfish of her to put her own dislike of Malfoy before the case. 'I'm sorry,' she muttered.

'You said you could do this,' Harry said to her directly. 'You claimed that you could fake marriage to anyone at all, as long as it gave us a chance to catch this git. You even agreed once you heard we might consider Malfoy. And then you don't even _try_ to seem like you like him now?'

She flinched. 'It's not like he makes it easy to try, Harry, when he keeps house-elves and openly considers half-human children lesser beings. Everybody knows these things are important to me!'

Harry got a pained expression on his face. 'He went with you and he donated. That's really all we need for this scheme to work. You don't _actually_ need to like him, you know! Just... pretend to accept his flaws.'

'It would be easier to pretend to be happily in love if I could _stand_ him!'

'The swot has a point,' Malfoy interjected.

'I thought I told you to shut up!' Harry growled in Malfoy's general direction. 'Hermione... it's just for a few weeks. Smile and pretend he has good qualities. As for you...' Harry turned to Draco. 'Stop being yourself. Act like someone a witch like Hermione would spare a second look.'

Malfoy scowled. 'She should be so lucky as to be courted by a Malfoy.'

'See what I have to deal with?' Hermione moaned.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temple. 'Just... figure it out. The more you get us behind schedule, the more people will be in danger. And the _less_ inclined I will be to push for your full sixty percent, Malfoy!'

After another meaningful look, Harry excused himself from the meeting room and Hermione spent a few minutes staring down at her hands. This wouldn't do. This wouldn't do at all. But how could she work with someone who was so infuriatingly uncooperative? Did she just pretend she loved his uncaring ways? Who would even buy that?

'I did donate,' Malfoy said from the other side of the table. 'Donated enough to seem to want to impress you and signed my name very clearly.'

'I bet you're going to want the Ministry to refund you,' Hermione muttered.

He was quiet for a moment but then said, 'That has nothing to do with the part I'm playing, does it? The Ministry is keeping forty percent of my personal fortune; they can afford it.'

She growled. He was missing the point. 'I don't like you, Malfoy. No - actually I really, really loathe you. Couldn't you at least _act_ like a human being for a few weeks? This would be so much easier if we could be friends!'

He laughed rather unpleasantly at that. 'Friends, Granger? You and I? Don't be absurd. It'll never happen.'

She ground her teeth. 'If we can't have a truce long enough to make this work, then you won't get your bloody money!'

He contemplated that, 'All right,' and leaned forward. 'So what do you propose we do?'

She took a deep breath. It was time to be practical. 'Well, first off, you need to consider what kind of a witch I am and act accordingly. I'm sure you can go a few weeks without putting less fortunate groups down.'

'I think I could perhaps manage.'

She scowled at that. He didn't even attempt to deny that he was doing it! 'And try to act more courteous towards me. Like you actually want to be with me.'

'Shouldn't you do the same?' he asked. 'I mean, you're hardly fawning over me.'

'Currently there isn't much to fawn over!' she snapped. 'I can't be completely out of character. Be nicer and then I'll act interested.'

'And you don't care that it's out of character for me to be "nice" to you?' he shot back. 'Who would even begin to believe that I'd want to marry you?'

Hermione gaped. What a thing to say to someone! 'Maybe - just maybe - they would think that you finally got over yourself and realised that there was more to life than money and some stupid prejudices that have no actual factual merit!'

'Right,' was all he said. He looked entirely too arrogant for words.

'Maybe,' she hissed, 'they'll think that you actually managed to discover that shrivelled, black heart of yours.'

'Contrary to _your_ unfactual beliefs, pure-bloods do know what love is, Granger,' he coldly replied. 'We just choose to love each other rather than inferior creatures.'

She slowly stood. 'The very fact that you think that love is a choice only makes my point. For a few weeks, pretend that it's not. Pretend that someone fed you a love potion if you must. A few weeks of pretending infatuation and a fake wedding won't taint you forever. You'll still be able to pass on your hateful and bigoted ways to the next generation of pure-blood sheep.'

He stood as well. 'That's very good to know, Granger. But will _you_ do what's required of you?' He indicated her person from head to toe.

Oh, right. Of course. Because obviously no matter what, the only thing he could imagine wanting a Muggle-born for was her looks. Charming. Only not. 'You'd better be a bloody good actor,' she hissed and then turned away and stalked off.

* * *

Draco checked his watch, his brow crinkling in annoyance. His dear would-be fake girlfriend was late. More than a little fashionably so, even. Considering how she wasn't usually late for anything, this was probably another way for her to signal her personal dislike for him. He had half a mind to make an official complaint. Maybe Potter would have an opinion about her not turning up for their pretend-dates.

This whole setup wasn't working. He couldn't even begin to fathom what Potter had been thinking.

He sighed irritably and decided it was time to leave. Why be spotted in a place like this when he didn't need to be? Granger would owe him for how he'd been sticking his neck out for no reason at all.

He walked to the exit, nearly toppling over some witch, who was just arriving. Realising that she wasn't going to be the one to budge, he irritably stepped aside to let her pass. She didn't pass him, though. Instead she also just stopped up. Feeling more aggravated by the second, he looked her straight in the face and prepared to bite her head off. Something stopped him, though. There was something entirely too familiar about her features, even though she didn't really _look_ like... His eyes widened. 'Granger?'

She scowled at him. Yes, this was definitely her. 'No stupid comments,' was all she said.

He pursed his lips. He didn't make it a habit to make stupid comments. Sometimes he made snarky comments, or witty comments, or maybe even rude comments, but they were never stupid. Still, he didn't quite know what to say. She'd done that thing he'd seen her do once or twice before where she'd smoothed her hair - possibly smoothing it was easier than taming what was already there - and she was wearing it up in some elaborate style that he was quite certain she hadn't managed on her own. Add to that an actual tasteful dress and make-up that went beyond glossy lips and darker lashes and anyone would know why he'd had a hard time recognising her. 'You're late,' he replied.

She threw up her hands in exasperation, looking more like herself with each second that passed. 'Of course I'm late! Do you have _any_ idea how long doing all this takes? I have a job, you know. I can't just sit around all day, getting my nails done!' She waved those perfectly manicured nails at him.

He grinned. She'd actually finally made the full effort! Maybe he wouldn't tell Potter about her bad time-keeping after all. 'Most women enjoy looking pretty, you know.' And, much as he hated to admit it, she did look pretty. It just proved his personal theory that with enough charms, goo, paint and silk, any witch could turn out presentable in the end.

She scowled at him again. 'Hey, I enjoy looking _pretty_, I just don't enjoy having _hair_ ripped out everywhere and warm irons near my eyelashes and... there's tape and... why aren't there spells for more of these things? I swear, I'm looking into that. But even so, that's not the definition of pretty. That's the definition of ridiculously overdone and you are a perfect example of how doing all these things creates unrealistic expectations in people!'

He casually ignored her tirade. 'I am assuming you had help.'

She nodded, looking remarkably pouty. 'And they were thorough. Very, very thorough.' She winced and he was sure he didn't want to know what she was talking about. He was delighted that it had been uncomfortable, though. Generally speaking, his discomforts far outweighed hers in this scheme, and he didn't mind the score becoming a bit more even.

'Good.' He nodded his approval. 'There's someone I'd like you to meet and then, if you're a good girl, I'll buy you dinner afterwards. I won't even charge the Ministry this time. Well, probably not.'

She looked around as if to try to figure out where they were. To her this was probably just some random building in wizarding London. 'Where are we?' she asked. 'What is this thing? I swear, if this is some kind of pure-blood-'

'Relax,' he interrupted. 'Chances are most pure-bloods wouldn't be caught dead here. I'm not too thrilled about being here either, but it's a tolerable cause and when I told them you might come, they were very anxious to see you. In fact, they went on ad nauseam about your virtues. I really had to stop listening so I wouldn't lose my lunch.'

'Right,' she muttered, grabbing firmer hold of her purse. 'Make it sound like you're about to sell me or something, why don't you?'

He couldn't help but laugh. 'With the upgrade you'll fetch a good price,' he said, grabbing her elbow and hauling her off before she could object.

* * *

Hermione reluctantly followed, squirming a little, feeling like a stranger in her own skin.

'Stop looking so awkward!' Malfoy demanded.

Right. She'd like to see how he would look after someone had poured hot sticky stuff in places it _really_ didn't belong, only to... to...

Why wasn't there a spell for that kind of grooming? Hermione vowed to invent a spell.

And why, oh why, had she asked Ginny for help? Ginny, who didn't know anything about Hermione's motivations or this scheme and only got a look of unholy glee and applied _every_ makeover trick in the book. Every single one. It didn't matter how embarrassing or how expensive or how... _personal_ the thing was.

And to top it off, she seemed to really, honestly think it was because Hermione had met a new man or possibly rekindled things with Ron. Which was good, Hermione supposed. It was what Ginny _should_ think. But it still felt awful to mislead one of her best and oldest friends like that.

'Seriously, Granger. Do you have ants in your knickers or something?'

Hermione gaped. She was not squirming that badly! And, besides, she didn't like the imagery of ants in her knickers. She definitely didn't like _him_ having that imagery! It was just... add to everything the fact that Ginny had insisted on a certain kind of underwear "just in case" and it felt vastly different to what Hermione was used to...

She really couldn't wait to be done with this.

'Mind telling us who these people are before I meet them?' she asked, digging in her heels before he could pull her any further. She was _not_ meeting anyone unprepared.

'They manage a fund for Squib care.'

'_What?_'

He visibly rolled his eyes at her. 'Squibs. You know, the horrors of any well-bred pure-blood family?'

'Yes! That's why I'm having a hard time imagining _you_ caring about them!'

'Squibs are embarrassing to us. Humiliating, even. So we usually very strongly encourage them to join the Muggle world if they can't be made to show some sign of magic capability.'

'Thanks for the info, Malfoy. Everybody knows this.'

'Yeah?' he asked, staring her straight in the eye in the most unnerving way. 'Did you also know that they're sometimes tested so hard for magic that they die? And that if they don't die, they are sometimes just left on some Muggle street alone, no family or friends; no food, no money, no roof over their heads? That it's just assumed that Muggles will pick them up? That the Ministry has so far ignored anyone asking for some kind of measure to be taken, even though some of these children are as young as four years old?'

'And why do you care?' Hermione asked, intrigued about the allegations but not entirely trusting Malfoy or his reasons. 'I thought the only good Muggle to you was a dead Muggle.'

'They are not Muggles. They are Squibs. They are embarrassing and _should_ go away, but they come from us. We should at least make sure that they will be taken care of.'

Oh, so he was a _responsible_ bigot. Well, that was good to know. Or... something. Hermione was honestly a little confused by now. 'So this fund...?'

Draco shrugged. 'It offers research into safer methods of testing. And it offers an easier transition with Muggle papers, housing, schooling and eventual employment. I hear that some Squibs even forget we exist.'

'Good for them!' Any child whose parents saw it fit to just abandon it and rely on the kindness of strangers for its future existence deserved to forget that it had ever had those parents to begin with.

'Yes, but it's expensive, even if we don't produce that many Squibs, and the people behind it are desperate for your attention. Apparently, they wrote you but you never responded.'

Hermione's cheeks heated. 'I get a lot of post,' she muttered. She really did. She was famous for her part in the war and her friendship with Harry, _and_ she was known for her devotion to good causes. People constantly wrote her to tell her of the latest injustice, big or small. She really couldn't keep up with it all.

'I don't doubt that you do,' Malfoy surprised her by saying. 'I used to as well. Money, influence, fame... they all want a piece. Of course, lately they've realised that there's no point in writing me.'

'I thought they'd have realised that sooner,' she muttered.

He shot her an exasperated look. 'Take a look at the list of my public donations sometime. I might not want to hug a half-breed, but I don't mind paying so that someone else will do it far, far away from me.'

'That's so lovely and heart-warming.'

'Charity isn't about having a heart. It's about keeping society running in a way that's tolerable to everyone. I don't want dirty, hungry Squibs and half-breeds all over me every time I go to Diagon Alley, so I pay to make sure they won't be.'

Hermione had to bite the inside of her cheeks not to respond. They really shouldn't be having a third public fight at this point. Instead, she just shot him a very stiff smile.

He snorted. 'Oh, come on, Granger. You can't say that you honestly-'

'Draco! You didn't say you'd be coming here!' The dark-haired, slim and very fashionable witch coming towards them smiled at Malfoy. She looked vaguely familiar. Hermione narrowed her eyes, trying to figure her out.

Malfoy paled a bit, seeing her. 'Pansy? Um, didn't know you'd be here, actually,' he muttered, now looking about as uncomfortable as Hermione had felt before.

This was Pansy? Pug-nosed Pansy with the eternal sneer? Being out of school robes certainly helped her looks. Or maybe it was just the years that had helped her grow into her features. In any case, _what_ would she be doing in a place like this?

'Who's your friend?' Pansy asked, coolly assessing Hermione. Oh, grand. Would there be jealousy now too? Hermione really wasn't in the mood for scenes.

'You probably remember Granger, don't you?' Malfoy asked, looking as if the words tasted horribly.

Pansy's eyes widened a fraction and she looked almost excited. 'They finally got you to come?'

Hermione blinked. What? Pansy _hated_ her! Had the doorway to this building concealed a portal to an alternate universe? At this point, nothing would surprise Hermione.

'She's, um, with me.' Malfoy winced. Hermione had to choke back a laugh, because this really had to be awful for him.

'You got her to come? Oh, thank you so much.' Pansy put her hand on Draco's arm in a very familiar way that made Hermione arch an eyebrow.

'Are you two still...?' she couldn't keep from asking. She could certainly see why Draco would hate this arrangement if that was the case.

Pansy rapidly removed her hand. 'Oh, heavens no! No, no, not for a long while now. Just... old habits...' She smiled nervously. It was peculiar, yet oddly entertaining.

Draco pursed his lips. 'Pansy is married now. Has been for years. If her husband was led to suspect she was less than faithful, however, she'd find herself in the middle of a divorce. Divorces are messy, so let's try not to instigate one, shall we?'

Yet he didn't deny that there was something. Hermione very much suspected she didn't want to know anything else. 'So, what's your interest in this cause, Parkinson?'

Almost before she could end the question, Malfoy grabbed her arm and hauled her off. 'Oh, look! There's one of the blokes I wanted you to see! Talk to you later, Pansy.' He didn't wait for a reply.

'And what was that about?' Hermione hissed.

'I can't believe you didn't put two and two together. Pansy is married. Pansy is _here_. Pansy's husband is looking for an excuse to get rid of her.'

Hermione abruptly stopped walking. 'She has a Squib child?'

'A boy. So far very distinctly not-magic. Her husband left when she wouldn't abandon hope right away, the charmer.'

'Oh.'

'Her child's condition is a painful subject to her. I'd appreciate it if you would show a little more tact.' He propelled her into walking again.

'Look who's lecturing me on tact,' Hermione muttered.

'Perhaps. But she's a woman who's effectively lost her husband, and a mother who will probably soon lose her child, so any petty little grievances you have with her really shouldn't matter.'

'She could keep her child with her.'

'Like your parents could've kept you after your Hogwarts summons? The difference is, you were more than a Muggle, whereas Pansy's son is less than a wizard. He'll never measure up in our world. He'll always be inferior. In the Muggle world, he'll have the chance to excel and be happy. The selfless thing is to let him go. And like any good mother, she wants only the best for him wherever he has to go, so here she is.'

Hermione's head was hurting. She disagreed on so many levels with Malfoy's simplistic worldview. The main reason for wizarding society to stay apart from the Muggle world was the fear of exploitation and persecution by those who would know their existence. Squibs already knew of the existence of wizarding society and could be an asset if integrated better. Most work didn't _require_ magic, after all. But then again, Hermione also believed that wizarding society could benefit from observing more electronics, and so far that idea had only been scoffed at.

She wearily rubbed her temple. 'Where are these people you wanted me to see?' she asked on a sigh.

* * *

'Why did you bring her?' Pansy appeared from the darkness of the night. 'I know that you don't usually care _that_ much about this cause, so why did you risk being seen with her here?'

Draco slowly turned around. He'd known she'd seek him out to ask questions. Now was as good a time as any, as he was alone on this balcony, tired of hearing Granger yammering on in her typical idealistic goody-goody way, but Pansy was being a bit more direct than he'd thought she'd be. 'Hey, you wanted her to come, didn't you?'

'We've been trying to get attention for a long time now, you know that.'

He shrugged. 'Now you may have it. Although, be warned. I think she might be pondering a way to make Squibs stay rather than go.'

Pansy's eyes lighted up. 'Oh, that would be lovely. I guess I'll draw it out a little longer and see what she comes up with.'

'You know you have to let him go if he doesn't manifest soon.'

Pansy frowned. 'Come again and tell me what to do when _you_ have children, Draco Malfoy; until then, shut your big fat mouth.'

He raised his hands in surrender. 'Easy there... I won't mention it again.' He turned back to look out into the darkness.

'But you never answered my question,' she said.

'What was that?'

'_Why_ did you bring Granger here?'

He looked down at his hands. 'I thought she might like it here. She's very passionate about good causes.'

'But I don't understand. You're certainly not friends, but you don't look like lovers either. What are you?'

He flinched. Not even Pansy bought their relationship. Considering how she'd tried to pair him up for a very long time, this was a really bad sign. 'Maybe we're not that easily defined?'

'So you claim to fancy her, is that it?'

He grimaced. 'What if I did?' _Think of the money; think of the money; think of the money._

'Then you'd need to treat her better, instead of dragging her around and annoying her. I don't think you really fancy her. You might want to sleep with her, but, honestly, is that worth the trouble?'

So they truly weren't even fooling Pansy, the most soft-hearted person he knew. He sighed. 'You're right. Maybe it _is_ time to change tactics.'

She faintly smiled. 'Change tactics? She's a person, not a game.'

He couldn't help the laugh. 'She's a Muggle-born, remember?'

'And my son's a Squib and my pure-blood husband who swore to love me forever is somewhere in Spain with his new mistress, ignoring what I'm going through whilst spending all our money on fancy jewellery for her. And you _know_ what happened with the last pure-blood wizard I went out with before that.' The look she shot Draco was very meaningful and made him wince.

'I don't even know how many times I've apologised for that!'

'You know what works better than apologies? _Not_ doing anything to be sorry for. So... tell me again just how sub-human _she_ is because of her birth.'

'Come on. She's... Granger. She gives me headaches. In fact, right now I had to walk out because I couldn't stand to hear her nattering. And she likes half-breeds!'

'Weren't you involved with a half-Veela at some point?'

'That's _not_ the issue here. Besides, Veelas don't count. They aren't repulsive.'

'Honestly, Draco. Sometimes you're just a little bit repulsive yourself.'

Draco gaped at Pansy. Never had she said such a thing to him before. Not ever! Not even during the worst drama of their break-up. 'Pansy!'

She shrugged. 'I only wish that someone would teach you some empathy and humanity so I could invite you over without fearing that you'd making _the face_ at my son. Soon he'll be old enough to fully understand what _the face_ means, and I simply don't want him to experience that from his own mum's friends.'

Draco secretly thought that this was exactly why Pansy should get her son integrated as a Muggle as soon as possible, but he didn't dare voice that opinion. Instead he said, 'I'll do my best.'

She smiled a little sadly as if she didn't believe him. She knew him too well.

Fortunately, Granger chose that moment to appear and ask if he was ready to go. Pansy cocked an eyebrow at him, no doubt wondering if he was really going to try to get into Granger's knickers.

Stupid scheme.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note:** My stories look weird without an A/N at the top. :P

* * *

Hermione took a bite of her food and carefully chewed it. Since Malfoy was paying for dinner, she wanted something to eat before they got into a fight, damn it, so she'd refused to speak until now. And she certainly had to finish chewing before speaking. She wasn't a barbarian, after all.

Draco was giving her a bored look, his cheek resting on his fist. 'Will this pass for adoration?' he asked.

She slowly shook her head. 'We're very unconvincing as a couple.'

He nodded. 'I think everyone but your friend Harry knows this.'

'It doesn't help that you actually tell people that I'm unsuitable.' She reached for her drink. Whoa, food _and_ drink. This was turning out to be a marvellous date, considering who it was with and all.

'It's not nice to eavesdrop, Granger.'

She shook her head. 'I guessed. I was right. But Pansy at least seemed to encourage _something_.'

He yawned behind his hand. She supposed it was good of him to cover his mouth, but acting so obviously bored was really rude of him. 'Pansy thinks I need to get laid, I think. And lately she hasn't been very interested in traditional pure-blood ways. Can't blame her, since she's probably about to be the divorcée living with her Squib son and most of polite society will avoid her.'

Hermione stopped her fork halfway to her mouth. Something useful was buried somewhere in that gross comment...

Oh, right! 'Get laid... Well, Malfoy, I guess since this way isn't working, you'll have your way. We'll attempt to convince people that I think you're good in bed.' She couldn't help the snigger.

He gave her another bored look. 'What are you on about?'

'We'll pretend that we're actually, um, having a _physical_ relationship and get caught looking like something happened. Maybe people will have an easier time buying that than us being all sappy together. Especially since we aren't particularly sappy together.'

'So I'm supposed to snog you now, too?'

She flinched. She really didn't like that idea. She really, really, _really_ didn't like that idea. She'd only ever been well and truly snogged by one person, and that was Ron. The thought of Malfoy's tongue anywhere near her mouth... no. But it was the sacrifice she'd agreed to make. 'It'll just be make-believe like everything else,' she said. 'We'll keep any actual touching to an absolute minimum.'

'Nobody appreciates how hard I'm working for this money,' he muttered. It would possibly have been a more effective whinge if he hadn't still sounded like he didn't care much one way or the other.

'Right. So... I'm thinking getting caught down at the Ministry might be the most effective, but it's very unprofessional, so I thought that-'

'We'll get caught at the Ministry, then.'

'Weren't you listening? I was saying-'

'I _was_ listening. You said that it would be most effective. That's all I care about.'

She sighed. 'Fine. I guess my reputation will eventually be restored. Drop by tomorrow morning. I'll wear a very distinguishable lipstick and show you one of our conference rooms.'

He smirked. 'It's a date.'

Oh, how she wished she didn't have to do this.

* * *

Draco had mixed feelings about this new scheme. On one hand, he didn't really relish the thought of snogging _Granger_, but on the other hand, he thought that she might look even less forward to it, and that gave him some satisfaction. Finally, some of what they were doing would reflect even worse on her than on him! He could endure a lot just for that.

He frowned at the door to her department as he realised they hadn't really agreed on whether he should just come up to her desk, or...? Shrugging, he pushed it open and went in. He wasn't going to stand around outside, waiting for her. He was already fashionably late and she was nowhere to be seen.

He saw her almost immediately, sitting at a desk in a moderately sized cubicle. Hermione Granger didn't even have her own office? Interesting. She looked up, noticed him, quickly glanced at the clock and then rather adamantly motioned for him to go back the way he came whilst getting up and smoothing her... skirt? Huh. He'd thought ministry officials always wore robes to work. He turned back and sauntered out, satisfied to see that he'd been noticed by quite a few people.

He was sure that the fact that a flustered Granger would be following him would be noticed by the same people. Excellent! He was very close to regaining his fortune!

She caught up with him right outside. 'Sorry,' she muttered, looking a little abashed. 'I lost track of time. Here.' She led him down the hall.

'So,' he conversationally said, 'how come the famous Hermione Granger doesn't have her own office?'

She opened a door and motioned for him to get inside. He obeyed and then turned around to hear her reply. 'Funding,' she simply said. 'We don't have a lot of it, and whenever we do get some, we put it to better use than extravagant offices and big bonuses, unlike other parts of the Ministry.'

'You do realise that a nice front would make your department more attractive to invest in?'

'And _you_ do realise that I have neither the time nor the inclination to discuss this with you?' she retorted. 'How's over here?' She went to the nearest end of the long table dominating the room they'd just entered and leant on the edge.

He shrugged. 'Fine, I guess.'

'Come closer.' She rummaged in the handbag she'd brought for something. He obeyed and then wished he hadn't as she quickly smeared some lipstick on his lips.

He jumped back. 'What the...?'

'Don't be such a baby! Come back here so I can make it look natural.'

Reluctantly he did as she asked and then endured much poking of his lips and surrounding area.

'It won't be that natural if your lipstick isn't smeared at all,' he pointed out.

'Getting to that,' she muttered, getting out a handkerchief and carefully rubbing a bit. 'How's this?'

He shook his head. 'I guess.'

She nodded and unbuttoned her shirt a little. 'I sometimes prefer to wear more Muggle-ish garments,' she conversationally said. 'I figured buttons would be handy today.'

'They do make button-down robes, you know.'

'I know. I just don't have any. Haven't seen a robe like yours before, though.'

Draco sardonically smiled. 'Of course you haven't.' His robes were the very latest fashion, after all. Buttoned to the waist and then open and slightly flared out to show trousers underneath. His father despised this newest fashion, as did many other more traditional pure-bloods, but Draco didn't really see how exactly trousers could be a threat to their way of life.

Besides, if he was supposedly involved with a Muggle-born, he doubted he could plausibly have an aversion to these mythical world-wrecking trousers.

She frowned at him. 'Less of the condescension, thanks. I actually like your outfit. Too bad it's probably too expensive for anyone with sense to purchase.'

'Oh, I'm sure you can get Madam Malkin to copy the style if you ask nicely.' He reached out and flipped another two buttons of her shirt open.

'Hey!'

'I'm sorry, but if it's supposed to look like I'm ravishing you, I wouldn't stop whilst you were still modest. It sort of defeats the purpose. Nice bra, by the way.'

Her cheeks darkened and she sneered at him. 'Goes both ways, doesn't it?'

Without blinking, he opened the first few buttons of his robes. Then another few. And then, when she just arched an eyebrow at him, he opened the last buttons, leaving it hanging completely open. 'You really think they'll buy that, Granger?' he asked, feeling rather doubtful. She didn't strike him as very sexually aggressive.

'No, you're right,' she said with a saccharine smile and reached for his belt.

'Hey! Don't play around!' he objected.

'I'm not.' She opened it and unbuttoned his trousers. 'If I'm to show underwear, then so are you! And you'd best be _wearing_ underwear.'

He scowled at her. Of course he was wearing underwear! 'It's just your bloody bra, although, granted, there's less of it than I thought there would be.' Much less, come to think of it. He stopped fighting her fumbling to ogle her a bit. 'You really did dress for the occasion, huh?'

She cringed. 'Stop being on about the bra. We're even now. Just... stop talking.'

He shook his head. 'No... not even close to even.' He hoisted her up on the desk, making her squeak, and with one hand up her smooth thigh, he bundled up her skirt, revealing... matching knickers. Or, well, he thought they were supposed to be knickers. There really wasn't enough of them to be sure.

Furiously blushing, Granger attempted to pull her skirt back down. 'Stop staring at my private bits!' she hissed.

He opened his mouth to say _then stop displaying them_, but quickly caught himself. That wasn't really a piece of advice he wanted to give any witch - not even Granger! 'I... thought they'd be less displayed,' he carefully said instead. 'But don't worry. Anyone entering wouldn't, ah, be able to see that much anyway.'

'I don't care for you seeing either!'

'Hey, I'm sorry that I assumed you'd be wearing something a bit more practical.' He really was sorry. They were standing _very_ close and Granger was holding onto his belt and somehow the room was beginning to seem smaller and... warmer. Usually he only came across blushing, dishevelled witches with smeared lipstick under quite different circumstances.

'Didn't get around to get new practical underwear after Ginny burnt it all,' she muttered.

He looked up. 'Your friend burnt your underwear?'

'And it was your fault! So leave my bits alone.'

'I made your friend burn your underwear?'

'We don't have time for this!' She finally let go of his belt, allowing him to shift away from her a little, and grabbed his face. 'Someone will enter in about a minute. We need to look like we got interrupted snogging, not like we were arguing.'

She had a point. He narrowed his eyes. 'Hmm.' Then he reached up and untidied her hair.

'Hey!'

'You really think that your hair would be coiled tightly into a neat little thing after this kind of session?'

She sniffed at him. 'You could've been less abrupt about it.'

'I could, but I can hear someone outside the door.'

Her eyes widened and she grabbed onto his sides. 'Oh, shi- quiet!' she hissed, quite unnecessarily.

He leant his forehead against hers and waited, wondering if she would have a panic attack.

The door opened behind him and the buzzing of voices became more prominent for a second before it died out. Faking surprise wasn't that hard with the way Granger immediately jumped away from him.

'Hermione? What the...?' Potter's voice was saying behind Draco.

Granger looked absolutely mortified, but then she visibly steeled herself. Draco just smirked at Potter, wondering how Potter liked his brilliant plan now.

'Oh, sorry. I didn't realise anyone needed this room,' Granger meekly said, fumbling to get decent.

'What do you mean you didn't realise, you asked me this mor-' Potter cut off as he seemed to finally understand what was happening. 'I might accidentally have given you the wrong time,' he amended.

'Yes, um... ok.' Granger elbowed Draco and hissed, 'Button your trousers!'

Finally jolted into action, Draco buttoned his trousers and robes.

'That's fine,' Potter said, ushering his people back out, ignoring their attempts to catch more looks. 'We'll find somewhere else. And, Hermione? I'll talk to you later.'

Granger nodded and then, as the door closed behind Potter, she covered her face with her hands.

'I thought that went rather well,' Draco said, fixing the last of his clothes.

Granger nodded again, slowly removing her hands from her flaming cheeks. 'That has to be the most humiliating thing that ever happened to me,' she stated.

'Why? It was fake. And you knew what would happen.'

'But did you see their faces? The way they looked at us? Everyone will know by lunch time.'

'Good. I mean, that was the plan, right?'

Granger nodded, looking less than pleased. 'I really want this to be over soon.'

Draco didn't get the big issue. It hadn't been that bad. Shaking his head, he asked, 'So... where to next time?'

* * *

'A _bar_?' Hermione barely avoided a stumbling drunken wizard as she was glaring at Malfoy. After she'd realised what this place was, she'd only even entered to tell him off. 'I don't _go_ to bars!'

'Well, you're here now, aren't you?'

'Honestly, Malfoy, you're just trying to avoid places where your friends will come across our scheme! It's counter-productive!' She dodged under Malfoy's arm and behind him to get away from someone leering at her before they decided to chat her up. This place certainly was lively, although not in a way that Hermione could find it in herself to appreciate.

Malfoy just leisurely turned around to face her again. 'So you don't think any of my friends can be found at pubs?'

'No! Just look at you! You're at least as out of place as I am.'

'Only because I'm with you and you're about the most awkward witch I've _ever_ seen around here. Relax; fun won't eat you.'

Hermione snorted. Fun? She hardly thought associating with people who could barely even walk straight was "fun". 'Whatever. I let you pick the place because I assumed you'd have some interest in recovering your funds, but now I see that the thing down at the Ministry was just to embarrass me!'

'At pubs people relax and form relationships with people they might not otherwise give a second glance. Physical relationships as well. And they gossip about the relationships between others. Can you think of a more perfect place to get caught?'

'If you say so. Did you have a plan for how to go about this?'

'We sit down, we talk, and then at some point we act suggestive and go outside. Simple.'

'I suppose.' She found a seat and sat down, folding her hands. She looked around, appalled to realise that she knew the sober versions of quite a few of these people.

Malfoy sat down in front of her and shook his head. 'You're so prissy. Have a drink and _relax_. Otherwise nobody will buy this and we'll have wasted a perfectly fine evening.'

Hermione took a deep breath. He was right. Time to try and remember what it felt like to be relaxed and casually flirting. 'I don't drink, thanks.'

'You do tonight.' He arrogantly ordered something called a _Unicorn_ for her.

She ground her teeth. 'Stop being so condescending! I don't want to dri-' she abruptly cut off as the concoction was put in front of her. 'You've got to be kidding me!'

'Witches usually like Unicorns.'

'It's pink.'

'You don't like pink?'

'And it sparkles.'

'You don't like sparkles?'

She stared at him long and hard until his lips began twitching. 'You're making fun of me!' she then announced, making him choke on his own drink.

'Such clever deductive reasoning,' he said after he was done coughing.

She scowled at him. 'You're not supposed to make fun of me.'

'Hey, I simply bought you a drink usually appreciated by my dates. That you chose to take offense at the sparkles was simply an added bonus.'

'They're not offensive, they're just so... cliché. Like you're assuming that any witch will like things that are pink and sparkle. But then again, what should I expect from someone who assumes any witch will want to spend several hours a week trying to live up to an exaggerated idea of beauty.'

He leaned forwards. 'You're overanalysing, Granger. I was just bothering you because I could. But, for the record, you live up to that _exaggerated idea_ quite well.'

That stopped Hermione in her ranty tracks and she glanced at Malfoy, not sure how to respond. 'Uh... thank you. I think. Are you already drunk?'

He smirked in a way that definitely made Hermione uncomfortable. 'Not drunk, no. Just anxious to get this thing moving. And for that... I think you need to practise the art of flirting.' He reached out and touched her hand, just running the tips of his fingers along the back of her hand until his entire palm covered it.

She withdrew her hand as if burnt and glanced around. It was hard to tell if anyone had seen. Abruptly, she stood and stalked out the side exit. She didn't have to wait long before Malfoy followed her out.

'What the hell, Granger?' he growled. 'I swear, if you're going to give me any trouble-!'

'Cute,' she interrupted. 'But I figured we'd might as well stage you following me out to seduce me since you quite obviously managed to fluster me in there. I don't suppose handkerchiefs and added lipstick would do the trick this time? And how about the light? Maybe we should go over there? The shadows are there, but not deep enough to completely hide us, and there will be traffic coming from the pub...'

He opened his mouth and then closed it again and then said, 'What... now?'

She quirked an eyebrow. 'Yes, now. You were anxious to get moving, weren't you?'

* * *

Draco blinked a few times before he realised that Granger wasn't just having a laugh at his expense. He quickly scanned the area and realised she was right about the nearby shadowed area. Not wasting time on speaking, he grabbed her arm and pulled her over there.

She sniggered. 'Yes, you are being quite seductive, Malfoy.'

'Shut up,' was all he said, scanning the area again. It wasn't that late, so not that many people were going home yet, but there was the added bonus of people still arriving and others occasionally coming out for air. Snogging here was sure to get them noticed, but they'd have to seemingly stay at it for a while.

'Being told to shut up doesn't make me feel very amorous,' she calmly stated. She really was a prissy little thing, wasn't she?

He turned back to her with a smirk. 'Would you like me to try and make you feel amorous? Is that what you're saying, Granger?'

'What, are you nuts?' Granger looked just a little bit too appalled for Draco's ego. 'You were giving me the willies in there. Please refrain from doing so in the future.'

Didn't she know him at all? Now that he knew how to bother her, how did she expect him to not do it? 'We both know I'm only here for a price,' he silkily said, 'but there's no reason why we shouldn't make the most of it.'

She shook her head. 'I don't even _want_ to know what you mean by that.'

He shrugged. 'Have it your way, then. We shall hate every touch we will have to share so much that the next few weeks will be unbearable. But at least it will be a noble cross to bear. All because you're afraid you might like it too much.'

She sighed irritably. 'You're such a drama queen, Malfoy. I don't know how much you had to drink before we met up, but I am _not_ sleeping with you.'

That quite blindsided him and threw him completely out of character. 'Who ever said anything about that?'

'Oh, please. "Make the most of it" when we're supposed to be snogging? You're such an opportunist, Malfoy. I've seen you stare at my... assets. You hate me but now that I'm stupidly over-groomed you want to sleep with me, and you figure that you have a good excuse to make it happen. Well, it won't happen. I'm not that easy to manipulate.'

Interesting. She'd caught him looking. But any male had to be dead not to look when faced with something visually pleasing, and, currently, she really _was_ visually pleasing. Even her hair was looking good. He bet she had to spend an hour each day just subduing it. 'Fine,' was, however, all he said. 'But we really have to get to the snogging part now, because there's a whole group of people coming out, and I think I spot a journalist from the Prophet among them. That would speed things along, wouldn't it?'

'Where?' Granger arched her neck, trying to get a better look.

'Don't stare!' Draco hissed. 'You just have to take my word for it.'

She pursed her lips. 'Fine. I hope you cleaned your teeth well.'

'Now who's being quite seductive,' he muttered, shaking his head as he pulled her closer. He would make sure she was uncomfortable every step of the way, and now he knew exactly how. He lowered his head so their lips were almost, not quite, touching and said, 'Hold on tight!' and before she knew what was going on, he had her hoisted up against the wall.

She squeaked and then pushed at him. 'Not. Necessary!'

'Journalist,' he reminded her. 'Now's not the time to be chaste.' He pushed up her robes to reveal her quite lovely legs and force her to wrap them around him. Oh, yes. This was fun.

* * *

Hermione tried to hide her blush against Malfoy's neck. Looking like they were... were... doing _things_ and getting caught by her co-workers, gossips and now _journalists_ was so humiliating, she almost wanted to cry. She'd never do those things like this. She'd certainly normally never do them with _Malfoy_. Sex without love was something that Hermione had never had any interest in and she knew for a fact that she could never fall in love with someone like Malfoy. This whole scheme was stupid. How was anyone supposed to believe she would do this?

His hands slid up her legs to her bottom and squeezed. She yelped and accidentally hit her head against the wall. 'Ow!' She gave him her very best death glare. 'Would you stop that?' She squirmed to get his hands off her naked skin. She really needed to get some more modest knickers.

'I just wanted your attention,' he whispered, not showing the least interest in moving his hands. 'They're coming this way, and you can't look like you're hiding. Now laugh as if tickling and squealing was part of our foreplay.'

Oh, she really didn't want to, but she knew she had to, so Hermione let out her best girlish giggle. She needed a raise.

Malfoy grinned and then bent to kiss her.

Hermione froze, grabbing onto his shoulders. She knew this was coming, of course. They couldn't make pretences like this and forever keep lips off lips, but... it was just so wrong. You weren't supposed to kiss someone you couldn't stand. It was supposed to mean some kind of affection. Or at the very least, some kind of this-could-maybe-turn-into-affection attraction. She wasn't supposed to be all but bare-arsed snogging _Malfoy_ in front of complete strangers.

'Loosen up,' he muttered against her lips, moving one of his hands from her bottom - oh, grand, now it felt chilly - up to her chin to nudge her to open her mouth. Unthinkingly, she followed his lead, but then her eyes widened and she tried to turn her head. They didn't have to do this! It was dark here! Nobody could tell!

He ignored her and used his hand to keep her jaw in place as his tongue invaded her mouth. She knew he was doing it only to bother her. And it did bother her. She couldn't openly struggle without breaking their illusion, but this was much too intimate for her peace of mind. He was using his body to press her against the wall, private bits against private bits, and his one hand was _still_ on her bum, only now it wasn't still, but rather stroking, flexing... Not to mention the way he was caressing her lips and tongue with his own. She made an effort to look relaxed and unassaulted, but she refused to actively participate.

Suddenly, the hand on her jaw dipped, and she felt it seeking out her breast, kneading, turning the intimacy levels far up. She tried to nudge his hand away, but no luck. Damn him. What exactly did he hope to get from groping her like this? Suddenly she felt a slight shift in his stance and his lips quirking against hers, but before she could react, his other hand had slipped to somewhere that definitely wasn't part of her bum, and she felt a jolt of shocked embarrassment and anger. How dare he fondle her in such a private place!

She untwined her legs from around his waist and shoved him away, landing on her feet. 'Too much, Malfoy!' she growled.

He was looking a little flushed and dazed but did nothing but grin in the face of her anger. 'Hey, I was just curious,' he said with a casual shrug. 'Besides, nobody's looking at us any more.'

Hermione glanced around. He was right. She sneered at him. 'You'd better hope this makes it to the Prophet,' she said. 'Because I think I'm just about done with these displays!' Then she stalked off, telling herself that the reason her knees shook and her heart pounded was purely anger, and lots of it.

No, they definitely couldn't do this again.


	4. Chapter 4

They had made it to the Daily Prophet. They hadn't been front-page material, but there they were on page three. There was even a picture. The picture puzzled Draco some, because he didn't remember a flash of any kind going off. He was fairly sure he would have noticed if it had. Yet, somehow, they'd managed to take a picture of him and Granger passionately snogging.

At least it looked quite passionate in the photograph. It hadn't really been the truth, though. Granger had refused to play along below the surface and it had annoyed Draco enough that he'd deliberately pushed her boundaries. He'd honestly thought grabbing her breast would have got him more of a reaction, but while she'd tensed up, she hadn't pushed him away, and that had been one surprisingly soft and well-rounded breast.

He'd always been a fan of breasts, so he wasn't complaining exactly. It was just that now he wanted to investigate further, and that was an interest he could have lived without. It wasn't too bad, though. He imagined he'd get another chance to grope her if he wanted it, considering that they were going to pose as newly-weds.

However, maybe he shouldn't have touched her between the legs. The feel of the flimsy fabric of her knickers pressing against the warm, smooth skin was haunting him. He wanted to investigate that smoothness a lot more than he wanted to investigate the fullness of her breasts, and he knew that wasn't going to be an option. Prissy Granger wasn't going to be open to scratching his itch any day soon.

It was all extremely unfair. They forced him to pretend to marry her in order to get the money that was already his, and now she'd made him frustrated to boot. She really ought to sleep with him out of the goodness of her heart. What if their plan killed him and he had to die frustrated? Had anyone thought of that? He really ought to get one last wish just in case!

He sighed. Yeah, right. Putting away the newspaper, he took a long, tired look at all the notes on his desk. Today his office had been quite the owl central, and now he had to figure out what to say to all the people writing to ask him what the hell he was doing.

Faux-going out with a Muggle-born was hard.

* * *

'What? _Now_?' Malfoy was staring at Hermione as if she were insane and attracting just a little bit more attention than was strictly necessary in this cosy mid-range restaurant that Hermione had picked out for this particular date.

She harrumphed. 'What exactly did you think we've been doing?' she hissed, making sure to keep her voice low. 'Yes, Harry feels like we can push the plan forward and move on to the engagement _now_. The general consensus seems to be that we've already been seeing each other secretly for months, so it makes perfect sense to play on the "pressure" of being exposed.'

'Yes, ok, fine, but... right now?' If she didn't know any better, she'd think he was panicking.

'What's wrong with now?' she asked, quite puzzled.

'I don't know... how... and... ring! I have no ring!'

'Then make it spur of the moment. I'm sure the Ministry can dig up some ring for me to wear later.' Truth be told, she'd forgotten all about rings, but, really, that was the least of their worries.

He wrinkled his nose and glanced around them. 'And this restaurant...'

'What's wrong with this restaurant? I come here often. They have good food.'

'Yes, but it's hardly where I'd _plan_ to do it.'

'And what part of "spur of the moment" went over your head?'

'You can't just _propose_ spur of the moment!' he insisted. 'You have to consider everything it entails and _buy a ring_.'

Hermione rubbed her temple. 'Look, you have to be the one to do it, because you're the one in the position of privilege-to-be-lost. Just get it over with. I promise I'll say yes if you make it at all possible to do so.'

'If I... what?' He looked honestly perplexed at the thought that somehow his proposal wouldn't be irresistible.

She sighed. He really looked trapped. It wasn't real, for crying out loud! 'Either you propose tonight, or we find someone else to work with, Malfoy. Stalling is not an option.'

'I'm not stalling, this is just a lot to take in! I spent the last two days trying to deflect people's curiosity and outrage over that Daily Prophet article, and now you're saying I already have to weather the storm of an engagement? Can't I just get a _little_ breathing room?'

'No! We have to strike whilst the iron is hot! It will be scandalous and dramatic and some will even find it romantic. Just do it.'

When he was still looking indecisive, Hermione took some much-needed action and threw her water in his face.

* * *

Draco was wholly unprepared for the wet attack, and before he could check himself, he'd loudly exclaimed, 'What the fuck, Granger?'

Judging by the smirk ghosting across her face, that was exactly what she'd expected from him. She got up and said, '_That's_ for leading me on!'

The restaurant had become unusually quiet and at a glance, Draco could tell that they were getting almost everyone's attention. 'You're making a scene,' he impotently hissed, carefully trying to wipe the worst of the wet off with a napkin. He didn't want to further attract attention by waving his wand around. Of course she was making a scene. Damn her. He didn't like having to do _this_ part quite so publicly.

'All I asked was for you to commit. You'd think that everything considered that wouldn't be such a big problem!' she continued.

Wait... was this play-acting, or was she actually angry with him for hesitating on the next step of the plan? He wasn't completely sure, so he chose his words carefully. 'I just need a little more time,' he said. 'I need to figure some things out.'

'Then figure them out on your own,' she replied. 'Because I'm not waiting around. I'm sure the _cost_ will be easy for you to bear.'

That was most definitely a threat to withhold his funds. He sighed. 'Can't you just sit down so we can talk about this?'

'Talk about what?' She leant in closer and quietly - although not quietly enough not to carry - asked, 'Will you owl your mother and tell her about me?'

His eyes widened. He most certainly would do no such thing! Was she nuts? It would be much better for everyone involved if Narcissa Malfoy remained oblivious of this whole thing until _after_ the fact!

She withdrew and sighed. 'See? How can this ever work if your mother finding out about us is such a big issue?'

He threw down his napkin. Damn if he cared for all this drama. This was why he preferred a more private approach to things like this. 'I don't think you have any idea exactly how much you're asking of me.'

'You say that like you gain nothing!'

'No, I know I do, but...'

'But you find that you lose more.'

'I didn't say that!' Why did she keep putting words in his mouth?

'The fact that you even have doubts says it all. I can't believe how foolish I was to trust someone like you, someone who'll just take whatever he wants and not care about the consequences. You had your fun and now you're turning tail.'

Where did she even get all this from? Was she blaming him for copping a feel? He wouldn't be surprised, considering how repressed she seemed to be. 'Don't make it sound like it was all my doing,' he warned.

'No, I was right there with you. But we both know that you've overstepped more than a few boundaries with your lies and manipulation. If you'd been honest, then we would never have been in a position to land in that damn newspaper!'

From the way she looked at him, he suspected that she _was_ blaming him for the liberties he'd taken, as well as for tarnishing her Good Girl name. He sighed. 'I'm sorry. I shouldn't have touched you.' He really shouldn't have. But not for the reasons she thought. He had a damn hard time not ogling her cleavage tonight because he vividly remembered how nice those breasts felt. Stupid lust. He really did need to get laid.

She just shook her head sadly. 'Never mind my personal consequences. For once in your life, you could have done something truly good and you chose not to. I guess everyone was right about you.' Then she turned her back on him.

He'd never done any of this to be good! He was doing it for money! She knew that as well as anyone, so what was with the disappointed act? But he was losing the money, and that really irked him. With each step she took away from him, he was one step further away from ever being anybody again. Soon, the opportunity would be lost, and what then? His family would lose the manor and the last of their holdings, and Draco would have to go beg people that couldn't stand him for a job just to be able to feed himself.

He shot out of his chair. 'Wait!' he called out. 'Don't go! Fine. I'll... "commit".'

She slowly turned around. 'What was that?'

He sighed. He really didn't like Granger. He'd be damned if he was going to _ask_. 'I'll marry you,' he said. 'Till death do us part and all that. Is that commitment enough for you?'

He could easily have lived without seeing that triumphant smile on her face. If death ended up parting them, it had better not be _his_ death!

* * *

Hermione sat, hands folded in her lap, staring hard at the carpet. This was the part she hated the most. The part that Harry insisted she couldn't skip.

'It's so lovely you could drop by!' her mother was saying. 'We hardly ever see you any more. Your father should be home in about an hour, and then we can really catch up!'

Her father. She mostly feared his reaction - not that he'd be angry or anything, but he was likely to be disappointed that she was seemingly keeping yet another large part of her life from him - and so, she'd chosen the coward's way and had sought her mother out when she knew her father would be out.

'Um, actually,' she began. 'I have something to tell you.'

'Are you pregnant?' her mother instantly guessed.

Hermione sighed. Being asked that question virtually any time her mother had the least excuse for it was a bit taxing, but she supposed she couldn't be angry that her parents wanted grandchildren. 'No,' she replied. 'But I _am_ engaged to be married.' There. It was out.

Her mother blinked. 'Oh. To that Ron fellow?'

Hermione grimaced. 'No... You didn't meet him yet. It, ah, sort of went really fast.'

'And you didn't bring him here to meet us?'

Hermione smiled wryly at the thought of bringing Malfoy to a Muggle home. 'He's... an acquired taste. I wanted to make sure you were prepared.'

'And you're sure you're not pregnant?'

'Quite.'

'So what's right with him since you want to marry him and wrong with him since you won't let us see him?'

Good question, indeed! How did one make up good qualities for Malfoy that he wouldn't instantly prove to be a lie? 'He's sort of offensive in his behaviour, but he... his bark is worse than his bite. He just likes to seem more bad than he is. He's actually quite soft deep down.' Deep, deep, deep, deep, _deep_ down... maybe.

'Sounds like your father when we were young.'

Hermione couldn't help the horrified stare she was sending in her mother's direction. If her father had ever been _anything_ like Draco Malfoy, she'd rather not know about it. 'I'm... sure it's not the same,' she said.

Her mother waved her hand dismissively. 'It never is. So when _can_ we meet him?'

'I, uh... soon?'

'Hopefully before the wedding!'

_Hopefully not,_ Hermione secretly thought. 'I'll see what I can do. He's very busy.'

'Have you given any thought to your dress?'

Hermione blinked. 'Dress?'

'Yes, wedding dress!'

'Uh, no? We only _just_ got engaged, you know.' She was quite sure that someone from the ministry would point her in the general direction of either a dress or a set of robes before the wedding.

Her mother clapped her hands together in sudden excitement. 'You'll wear mine, of course!'

Hermione did a double-take. 'You still _have_ yours?'

'Of course I still have it, silly! Come on, let's go try it on!' She got up.

There was nothing Hermione wanted less in this world than to wear her mother's wedding dress at her fake wedding to Draco Malfoy. 'I don't know...' she muttered. 'My fiancé is very traditional, maybe he'd prefer it if I'd wear robes.'

Her mother frowned. 'He doesn't get a say in what you wear. Men have no taste. Let him wear traditional robes if he wishes, but you will wear what your mother tells you to.'

Apparently, Hermione wasn't getting much of a say in what she was wearing either. Hesitantly, she trudged after her mother upstairs. 'I'm not sure I'll fit into it,' she tried.

'Pish posh,' her mother said with her head in the closet of the spare bedroom. 'You're my spitting image. Well, except for that hair of yours. You have your father to thank for that. It does turn into the most beautiful curls when you take care with it, though. Have I told you how lovely you look today?'

Hermione flushed with embarrassment. Not her mother too! 'I had to style it for... for something important!' she defensively said.

Her mother nodded. 'Not enough time to make us look our best every single day, but that's what makes it so special when we do.' She smiled at Hermione and then drew out a flowy white dress. 'Here it is! We had to hide it when you were a child, because otherwise you'd have played princess in it and got all sorts of muck on it, and I guess we never thought to un-hide it.'

'I would not!'

'My dear, you were a clever child, but you were still a child. I one time caught you playing princess with my best gauze drapes. You fell and tore them so badly they had to be discarded. It was all the same, anyway, since I didn't know how to get the stains from those strawberries you'd been eating out.'

Hermione scowled. At least Malfoy wasn't here to hear all this. No one could embarrass you like your mother. 'I think it's too small.'

'Would you just try it on?'

Sighing, Hermione gave in and slowly began undressing, but then she got an idea. She shooed her mother from the room under the guise of wanting a little privacy and then grabbed her wand and muttered a simple spell over the dress before she stepped into it.

'How does it fit?' her mother called from the other side of the door.

'I told you,' Hermione called back. 'It's too small!'

'That can't be!' Forgetting all about privacy, her mother barged back in. 'Turn around and let me try!'

Hermione allowed her mother to attempt to wrestle the dress into submission for a few minutes, secure in the knowledge that it would be too small no matter what she did.

Panting, her mother finally gave in. 'That's really strange,' she muttered. 'You're such a tiny little thing. Are you _sure_ you're not pregnant?'

'Yes, mother...' Hermione droned and then closed her eyes as she realised how badly her mother would interrogate her once she learnt that the wedding would be in a couple of weeks already. Fun!

* * *

_Yesterday, Draco Malfoy proposed to Hermione Granger, who seems to have had enough of casual, steaming encounters and was, according to several witnesses, publicly and quite passionately ending their relationship. Scared to lose the witch of his dreams, Malfoy then instantly jumped to his feet and blurted out his offer._

'The proposal was one of the most romantic ones I've ever seen!' eye-witness Megan Jones says. 'It was raw with emotion. Malfoy showed himself from his most dashing side. Hermione Granger is such a lucky witch! Back in our days together at Hogwarts, we all knew that those two would eventually end up together. They just couldn't hide those smoldering looks or stop having heated arguments about the simplest of things. The only surprise is how long it took them to get there.'

We here on the Daily Prophet certainly want to add our best wishes to the clever war heroine and her reformed (and rich) fiancé. This will be an exciting match for everyone!

Draco could hardly keep a straight face as he looked over at Granger, whose jaw hung slack as she tried to process what he'd just read to her.

'I... you... we... they... preposterous!' she finally sputtered. '"Smoldering looks"? Where do they even _get_ this?'

'I'm guessing from their very vivid imagination,' he said, still trying to suppress his amusement.

Her eyes narrowed at him. 'Why are you laughing? You were the one opposed to doing it at all! In fact, you couldn't even manage to _ask_ if I'd marry you. It's a wonder anyone is still buying this.'

Draco was now sniggering openly. 'That's why it's so funny. They'll believe anything! And that Megan Jones... I don't even remember her, but I'm sure _she_ believes everything she's saying.'

Granger scowled. 'My mother kept asking if I was pregnant. I couldn't make myself tell her how soon the actual wedding will be. This is a nightmare.' She rested her forehead on the table.

'Cheer up,' Draco said, indeed feeling remarkably cheery about this whole thing. 'It'll be done soon, what with preparations and everything. Where will it be?'

She dully looked up at him. 'The wedding? I don't know. Wherever. I'm sure someone can pull some strings.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'At a couple of _weeks_' notice? I don't think so. And I'm not getting married at some plebeian hangout.'

'Oh, you're delightful,' she muttered, finally sitting up straight, but still cradling her forehead as if she had a headache. 'How about at your manor, then?'

'Not on your life.'

Her eyes lit up and a smile began forming on her lips. 'Then it's settled!' she chirped. 'We'll have it at the manor! I'll need a list of who you'd normally invite by tonight.'

'That would be hundreds of people. And we're not having it at the manor.' He couldn't believe she was ignoring his refusal.

'Try to limit yourself, but do it fast. And yes, we are! Do you happen to know any good wedding planners? I really can't be bothered with catering and such and I'm not sure that the Ministry has one of those on retainer.'

'You'll get your list. I'll ask Pansy about her wedding. And we are _not_ having it at the manor!'

Granger only smiled at him. 'It's all settled, then.'

Now it was Draco's turn to scowl. She was taking the whole "the groom has no say in his own wedding" thing a bit too far, he thought. But she couldn't just stage a whole wedding in his backyard without his permission, could she?

* * *

Hermione squinted at the setup on the grounds. Nice. Really nice. It seemed like they might actually be able to go through with this, even though the planner had actually given a high pitched scream and then fainted when she'd been told they needed to do a high profile wedding for one hundred and fifty people in two weeks. Such drama. It couldn't be _that_ hard to plan. Nevertheless, the planner had refused to take on the task unless she could hire additional people, and Hermione had eventually given her permission to hire whoever she wanted. In exchange, Hermione gave very strict orders that she didn't want to be bothered about doilies, napkins or flowers. She simply didn't care about the details.

This would be _really_ expensive, and Hermione feared that Harry might lose his job if it didn't pay off. They were only even getting this kind of funding because of the standing of some of the families affected. Harry, however, remained steely in his determination to make this as real as possible, which included a huge - albeit rushed - wedding. He didn't think that Malfoy would really be the kind to just sneak off and get married without telling the whole world about it. Hermione thought he rather was, but she wouldn't want to sneak off with him, considering how it would look. She was much too proud to even pretend to sneak off with someone who would be perceived as being too ashamed of her to have a real wedding - whether it would be the truth or not.

So she was knowingly putting Harry's job on the line and feeling guilty about it. But, damn it, she was the one doing the hard work here!

Malfoy was standing a few paces away, looking thoroughly put out. 'I can't believe you're invading my home,' he muttered.

'Why are you complaining? Look, your park is getting a free overhaul!' She pointed at the crew of gardeners, throwing around some very impressive spells.

He scowled at her. 'It's my _home_. I dislike having fake weddings here.'

'I dislike having fake weddings at all!'

'You should've planned better. Made a fake reservation somewhere to be cancelled at the last possible second, so we could scoop in and get that place.'

Hermione closed her eyes. Malfoy's whinging was almost the hardest trial of it all. 'This is the best solution. It's virtually free for the ministry to use your grounds, and you get some free maintenance done. Actually, if I were you and had financial problems, I'd generally consider renting out the grounds and select rooms of the building for big occasions. Your park is so lovely, some people wouldn't mind paying to use it.'

He shot her a sour look. 'What? And spend all my spare time cleaning up after others? No, thank you. Besides, I like a bit of peace and quiet in my _home_.'

'It's a big house, I'm quite sure you could find some undisturbed rooms to live in.'

'You're such a busybody.'

'And you're so spoilt. You constantly complain about not having any money, but you're feeling too entitled to actually _do_ anything about it.'

'I'm having this stupid wedding, aren't I?'

Hermione snorted. 'I mean something a bit more regular. You know, to get a steady income.'

He scoffed at her. 'You don't know what you're talking about. Want the full story? We used to invest and rely on interests and other payoffs, but they took most of our investments. And what was left didn't pay enough, so we had to pull out early from a few endeavours, losing most of the money, and bankrupting others in the process. That was fun, by the way.' The sarcasm in his voice seemed directed at her.

He could get some right back! 'Oh, I see! Now it's perfectly clear to me why you couldn't possibly under any circumstance try to make money any other way!'

He glared right at her. 'I shouldn't have to! I shouldn't have to do any of this! I did not deserve to have everything taken away from me! My parents didn't deserve it, either. If you'll recall, my mother is the only reason that Potter _lived_ to save the day. If you wanted to fine us, then ok! You could have done that. But instead of freezing almost all of our means, you could have worked out a payment plan to the same effect _without_ all of this.'

He had a point, although his refusal to work within his reality was astounding. 'It wasn't me,' she just said. 'I never had anything to do with that. My department gives out money, it doesn't take it away. And Harry's department deals with practitioners of dark magic much more directly than merely fining them _or_ freezing their assets.'

'I meant "you" as in "you people at the ministry".'

Hermione shook her head. 'But we're not all the same. Harry and I didn't take away your money, but we did give you a chance to get most of it back. So why are you angry with us?'

He sneered at her. 'Because you could both do more for me, but you don't. He's the bloody Boy-Who-Lived, and you're infamous for always getting your way with any cause you dedicate yourself to. If you wanted, you could have made it all go away from day one and you didn't.'

'Say that's true... why would we want to? What possible reason have you ever given us to want to make all your problems go away?'

'I'm sure you don't remember, Granger, but I did actually save your life once,' he pointed out.

She actually didn't remember, exactly. It took her a few moments to figure out what he was talking about, and then she felt that he vastly exaggerated what had happened. 'But we saved yours too. Twice.'

'Yes... but you would've died first. Besides, saving people is what you do, whereas it's definitely not what _I_ do.' He looked as if he felt like he had a very good point. In a way he did, but as far as good points went, it was a really bad one.

'Aw, now I feel special,' she sarcastically said.

'Mock me all you want, Granger. Crabbe would've killed you if I hadn't stopped him. You owe me a Life Debt.'

So it _had_ been that time in the Room of Requirement. Hermione mentally congratulated herself for remembering. 'I don't think it works that way. You weren't even trying to stop him from killing me - you were trying to stop him from trying to kill Harry for your own selfish reasons!'

Malfoy sneered at her. 'It doesn't matter,' he insisted. 'I still ended up saving yours. Life. Debt.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Oh, that's convenient, isn't it? Well, I'll be sure to save your life on this mission if it should become necessary.'

'Charming.'

'Why, thank you!'

He didn't reply for a bit and Hermione thought he'd dropped the subject when he suddenly said, 'This had better cancel my Life Debt with Potter.'

'You're getting paid, so I don't think it does.'

Malfoy's lips drew down in a deep frown. 'I was afraid of that.'

Hermione couldn't, despite her best efforts, keep from saying, 'Cheer up! If all goes well, maybe you'll owe me a Life Debt too before we're done!'

The look he shot her was so horrified that she really didn't feel like reminding him that their mark would most likely ignore him unless he was deliberately getting in the way of an attack directed at Hermione, which was more than unlikely. He'd probably remember that for himself at some point. No need to reiterate. Smiling, she looked over the setup once more


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note:** Thank you very much for the kind words about this story. :) It's nice to know the troubles cross-posting is worth it. Also, I hope you'll enjoy the new things I tried out with this. (New things being "plot" and such. ;))  


* * *

Draco was resting his forehead on his hands, which were both palm down on his desk. These disturbances would never end. They would never, ever end. All day and most of the night, he could hear people trampling all over his home, doing something or other. The noise was infernal, and the witch in charge of it all could give Granger a run for her money in the competition for the title of Most High-Strung Witch. He'd sneered at her and had hardly escaped with his hide intact. That woman was a harridan without equal.

He needed peace. He needed _sleep_. Apparently, not even his private bedroom was sacred in this madness.

The harridan entered without knocking. Of course she did. Why would she knock when she'd already completely taken over the place? 'Mr Malfoy!' she announced, ignoring that he was rudely attempting to pretend she wasn't there. 'Something has to be done about those peacocks of yours. They are beautiful birds, to be sure, and never have I seen such pristine white specimens - we could even find a very good use for them in the wedding, if it wasn't for them constantly _biting_ my workers!'

Draco grinned and slowly straightened his back. 'Your workers are invading their turf.' And Draco's too, but unfortunately, he couldn't just go around biting people. At this point, he was even fairly sure that he would if he could.

'Could we perhaps do something about it? Cage them until things settle down?'

Draco's grin widened and he shook his head. 'You couldn't wrestle any of them - let alone all of them - into a cage if you tried. Only my mother has ever been able to manage them.'

The harridan brightened. 'And when will your mother be back? I assume she'll want to be here in good time for the-'

'She won't be able to make it,' he curtly cut her off. 'Neither of my parents will.' Because he had bloody well neglected to invite them. With any luck, they wouldn't know about any of this until it was all long over. They were currently visiting some friends in France, and though they had the Daily Prophet sent to them every day, so far Draco had been successful in making the issues mentioning him and Granger disappear.

'Why wouldn't they be able to ma- oh.' The harridan actually blushed as she realised her faux pas in almost asking why his parents would possibly want to miss his "wedding" to a Muggle-born.

'Yeah,' he said, getting up. 'I'm leaving for the day. Please don't wreck the place, and be done by eight tonight or I will hex the lot of you.'

'You can't leave!' the harridan objected. 'We have so many things to go through. Your fiancée, bless her, refuses to give her input on most things, so I thought-'

'I'm _going_ to leave,' he cut her off again. 'I will look into what I'll wear, but as for the rest of it, I really couldn't care less. Do whatever you please, as you always seem to do.' With a flourish, he indicated everything around him that was currently being cleaned, rearranged, tidied and - in some cases - built from scratch.

The harridan shook her head. 'You are quite the oddest couple I've ever worked for.'

'Yeah, that's us,' Draco muttered.

'All right,' the harridan said. 'If that's how you want it.' She took out her wand and summoned a pile of rolled-up parchments and placed them in front of him. 'Here are your guidelines for your wedding robes.'

Draco wasn't sure he'd heard her right, but then he unrolled one of the parchments to glance at it, only to see a whole list of acceptable and unacceptable colours, patterns, fabrics and cuts. He stared at her. 'You're joking, right?'

'You have to match your bride, don't you?' she sniffed. 'And since I couldn't really get _her_ to bother much with it, I figured that I'd put this together for you, based on her shown preference in wedding robes.'

Draco raised his eyebrows. 'So she already bought her robes?'

The harridan shook her head. 'She was still browsing with her friend when I left her. But in the eventuality that she goes for a gown rather than robes, you may want to choose a narrow cut, so you don't look too... poofy together.'

Poofy, indeed. 'So she's still there?'

'Well, yes, but-' The harridan's eyes widened comically. 'You can't go to the same shop!'

Draco snorted and vanished the parchments. 'Watch me.'

* * *

Hermione wrinkled her nose at the thousandth garment she was considering. It was becoming rather hard to tell them apart. 'You know, maybe I don't want white,' she told Ginny and turned around, only to instantly feel bad as Ginny instantly very much tried to look like she wasn't bored out of her skull.

Everything had its limits, it appeared. She just had a really hard time picking one for some reason. It was very good of Ginny to even come along today, considering how little she generally thought of Malfoy. She hadn't even shown any censure towards Hermione's alleged relationship with Malfoy, but rather adopted a cautious sort of stance, where she tended to ignore exactly _who_ Hermione was supposedly marrying and just be supportive.  
Hermione had never realised just how much of a friend she had here.

'Why wouldn't you wear white?' Ginny asked. 'Those sordid images in the newspaper aside, at least none of you have ever been married before.'

Hermione's cheeks heated. She really hated to lie to people like this. Mostly because it was embarrassing. They honestly thought she was sleeping with Draco Malfoy! 'It's not that I _can't_ wear it, it's more that I don't feel like it'll suit me,' Hermione hedged. Actually, she just didn't want it to feel too much like a real wedding. 'How about if I wear a pale yellow?'

'Hmm.' Ginny scrunched up her face as she was considering that option. 'You don't think yellow will make Malfoy look washed out?'

Hermione blinked. Her dress would affect how _Malfoy_ looked? 'Won't white do the same, then?'

'Well, yes. I suppose. But white is traditional, so he'd just have to deal with it. Besides, Malfoy is hard not to wash out. He could use some sun. Speaking of sun, where will your honeymoon be?'

'It's a secret. How about bronze? I always felt that bronze suited me.'

'Too bad. You'll have to tell me about it when you get back. And bronze is for old witches.'

'Old! Thank you very much!' Hermione was aghast. She was not old!

Ginny waved a hand. 'To get married in, I mean. You should go for a younger colour.'

Hermione crinkled her brow as she thought about that. 'Like some kind of debutante pastel colour?'

'I suppose. Only, not yellow. And pink would be a bit much as well. Oh, how about that dress over there! I love the blue!' Ginny pointed at an elaborate powder blue silk dress on display. It had tons of lace, embroideries and pearls. It was elaborate enough that Hermione could tell at a glance that it was too expensive. It was the kind of beautiful fairy tale dress that she'd never be able to wear and would have to only admire from afar, along with almost everyone else.

She didn't even bother wasting time looking for a price tag for it. There wouldn't be one. If you had to ask what it cost, you couldn't afford it. It was as simple as that. 'How about we focus on dresses I can actually buy, hmm?' Hermione pointedly asked.

In reality, the Ministry would be footing the bill, and they'd made it rather clear that less would be more. She'd at first thought they'd just give her something they'd used on an earlier case, but apparently there was the importance of being seen dress-shopping. So now she was wasting hers and Ginny's day with this pointless and expensive endeavour. Maybe she should just grab one of the white ones and go.

'Isn't Malfoy chipping in?' Ginny poked.

Hermione flinched. 'He is. But there are a lot of expenses, and I don't really want to buy some extremely overpriced dress that I'm only going to wear once. Hey, here's a thought - why don't I rent a dress? I could get a nicer one that way.'

'You will _not_ rent!' an unexpected male voice sounded behind her.

Hermione swirled around to see Malfoy scowling at her. This wasn't part of their plan! 'What are _you_ doing here?' she asked.

'Looking for you. And clothes. And apparently preventing a disaster from happening in the nick of time!'

'You can't _be_ here,' Hermione insisted, glancing at Ginny, who was looking very puzzled at their exchange. Great. Malfoy was going to give them both away with his inability to act like a doting fiancé.

'Where else would I be? That insane woman you hired is completely wrecking the manor, and when I told her I was going to buy my outfit, she tried to push several tomes worth of guidelines on me. I found it easier to just ask you what you'll be wearing and then figure out what'll go with that.'

Hermione shook her head. In a way it made sense, but he still couldn't be here. 'Just buy regular dark dress robes and you'll be fine.'

'Not if he gets dark green robes and you get that dress,' Ginny said, pointing her thumb towards the dress on display.

'But I'm not getting that one,' Hermione hissed.

Malfoy squinted at the dress Ginny had indicated. 'What's wrong with it? It looks perfectly fine to me. Except, I'd thought you'd wear white, but I like the idea of something with a bit of colour. White doesn't really suit that many people.'

'She said you couldn't afford it,' Ginny helpfully said, watching his reaction.

'That's not-' Hermione began, but it was too late.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. 'Is that so? Why don't I be the judge of what I can or cannot afford? I hardly think one dress is what's going to bankrupt me.'

'And I hardly think that you know the prices of these dresses then,' Hermione shot back. Was he _insane_? The Ministry would never pay for that dress. 'Why don't you leave my shopping to me, and then I'll tell you later what you should get to match, ok?'

That appeared to be the wrong suggestion, because - once again - Malfoy decided to dig in his heels. 'No,' he said. 'I want you to wear that one. It would suit you.'

Hermione gaped. 'What? You don't get to tell me what I can or cannot wear to my own wedding!'

His lip curled in the most sardonic way. 'It's my wedding too. And I've quite taken a liking to that dress.'

Rubbing her aching temple, Hermione felt very much like yelling at him. 'Who ever heard about the groom picking the dress? Go away!'

'And who ever heard about the bride fussing about price tags and refusing to have an opinion about the planning of the actual event? Just buy the dress, Granger. It is, after all, a once in a lifetime event.'

Hermione shook her head, feeling tired. 'You don't actually have that kind of money!' And she _would_ make him cover the cost if he pushed this any further.

He smirked. 'As of this morning, I do. They finally cleared and released about a fifth of my fortune. Isn't that a happy coincidence?'

'And then you decide to squander it away on frivolities? Smart move, Malfoy.'

'A wedding dress is hardly a frivolity, Granger. Weasley, you talk some sense into her. I need to go find something for myself.' He turned around and walked away.

'Ugh,' Hermione said. 'Sometimes I just really want to...' She made wringing motions with her hands, but then caught herself. 'I, uh, mean... That must've looked...' She glanced nervously at Ginny.

Ginny merely waved a hand. 'You should've seen the arguments Harry and I had about our wedding. Although mostly, it was him thinking I spent too much money on silly little details. I probably did at that. What I'm really wondering, though, is whether the two of you are going to be using each other's last names even after you're married?'

Hermione hadn't even thought of that. 'Only when we fight?' she then ventured. She mostly recalled them using each other's names at all whenever they fought.

'So, a lot, then?' Ginny drily guessed.

'All the time,' Hermione agreed.

'Look on the bright side,' Ginny said with a grin. 'He's _really_ easy to manipulate. I hardly had to say anything at all.'

Hermione sighed. 'So I noticed. And please stop manipulating my fiancé.'

'Request duly noted,' Ginny said without committing. 'So, are you going to try it on now?'

Rolling her eyes, Hermione complied.

* * *

Draco had hardly thought they'd need any more dates after the engagement had been made and preparations for the wedding had started, but as it was turning out, it was nice to get out of the house and they had a ton of things to discuss. Besides, having dinner at home was hardly an option these days.

'The harridan asked if we were going to do our own vows,' he said and sipped his wine.

Granger shot him an annoyed look. 'Don't call her that. She has a name!'

'She does. But I don't remember it, nor do I care to. She's a harridan, and in a few days, I'll never have to see her again.'

'Unless you hire her for a real wedding,' Granger smugly pointed out.

Draco almost choked on his drink. 'Why would I rehire the harridan?' he asked, once he'd stopped coughing. 'She's made my life _miserable_ for the past few days. You don't even know half of how she's invaded my privacy in every way possible.'

'That may be so, but she's really good at what she does,' she insisted. 'I mean, consider it. A fully catered wedding for a hundred and fifty of the pickiest witches and wizards Britain has to offer... in two weeks. I think she deserves a bonus.'

This made Draco scowl. Didn't anybody care about his trials? 'Vows,' he snapped. 'What about them?'

Granger shook her head. 'Why bother with that. Let's just do the standard procedure.'

'And people would believe that you would do that?' Draco insisted. 'At least give it some thought. I swear, if I'm going through with this for nothing...'

'Relax,' she bit off. 'I wouldn't bother normally. I like to keep things simple.'

He leant back and smirked at her. 'Not too simple, though. You bought the dress.' And she'd had the bill sent to him, but that was only to be expected. He realised that he'd have to pay the extra, but the ministry was going to pay him their share. That was only fair.

She flushed. 'Your little show made it impossible not to. Ginny was beside herself with glee that she'd made you buy it.'

'Ah, yes, with her cheap taunt that I couldn't afford it. It was rather uninspired.'

Granger narrowed her eyes at him. 'You knew? Then why did you let her taunt you?'

'Because I liked the dress. There's no reason why we can't look good at this party, even if we're faking the marriage part. People have certain expectations, you know.'

She cocked her head. 'You're the oddest person I ever met. So you randomly decide to buy me, a Muggle-born, a dress that costs the same as a small cottage, just because you want to look good at our fake wedding?'

'Yes. It's called vanity, Granger. I have it. You have it too, or you'd never have let yourself be persuaded to get it.' But he was glad she had. He'd never seen her in any kind of dress or robes quite like this one, and he was very curious how she'd turn out. He was especially curious about how those straps made of strings of pearls would look against her skin. He pursed his lips as he thought of something. 'My mother's pearls would go well with that.'

'Your mother would gladly kill us both before that would happen,' Granger reminded him.

'She's not home,' he said. 'She wouldn't have to know.'

'You didn't even invite your parents, did you?' she asked with a frown. 'That's no good, Malfoy.'

He shrugged. 'It's not too far fetched that they wouldn't show up, is it?'

'It had better not be,' she muttered. 'But I'm not touching your mother's pearls. I have my own if you really insist.'

Draco was genuinely surprised by that. 'You do?'

She scowled at him. 'I inherited them from my grandmother. My mother didn't want them. She said that I had far better occasion to wear pearls at the Ministry than she did at her dentist's office.'

'What's a dentist?'

She blinked at him, but then replied, 'It's her job. She fixes teeth.'

'How?'

'With small drills. And large needles. And many other fun things. I can show you sometime if you want.' She grinned evilly.

Draco's eyes widened. 'So... your mother is a Muggle sadist?'

'She's not a sadist. She helps people get straighter, whiter, nicer teeth. And if they have toothache, she removes it.'

'What does your father do?'

'The same.'

'So... you are the by-product of _two_ Muggle sadists?'

'They are not sadists!'

'Uh-huh.'

'Muggles can't always fix things as easily as with magic; they have to pick the slower, more painful solutions. But in the end, they come out better for it. If anything, certain wizards and witches could learn something from Muggles.'

'Oh, I don't doubt any of that. I doubt why someone would sign up to _inflict_ such pain.'

Granger sighed. 'You're impossible. Just please don't call them sadists to their faces. Especially my father.'

'Why? Would it offend them?'

'No... My father would just tell you about how _nearly_ all of his patients make it out alive.'

Draco's jaw dropped open. 'What? Muggles _die_ from getting their teeth fixed?'

Granger laughed. 'Oh, he'll have a field day with you.'

'So... they don't die?'

She shook her head. 'No. He just likes telling outrageous stories with a straight face and seeing how far he can fool you.'

'Your parents sound strange.'

'They're not strange. They're people. Nice people. And I would appreciate it if you'd not show them your true face, because it would break their hearts to think that I was marrying some bigot. Just avoid them if you can't pretend to enjoy their company.'

Draco blinked. He'd been oddly unprepared for that dig. 'Their niceness apparently isn't hereditary.'

'Come on, Malfoy. We both know how you feel about both them and me. I'd just prefer it if you didn't hurt them.'

'So that's why we haven't been introduced. I was wondering if it was something like this.'

'Of course it is. I'd rather they see as little of you as possible before this scheme is over. Besides, who are you to talk? You didn't even _invite_ your parents.'

'Well, no. But that's mostly because I think _they_ would hurt _you_. And I do mean quite physically. I might see the nasty end of a hex as well, really. I didn't figure we had time for that.'

She cocked her head at him. 'Are you afraid of your parents, Malfoy?'

What a thing to ask! He scowled at her. 'Of course not.'

'It sounds like it.'

'Nasty things would be said and done, and since this isn't real, I don't see the need for it. They have a witch they are very interested in me marrying, and they'd feel obliged to tell her as well, possibly making the match impossible.'

'You don't think she's already found out?'

'No. She's French and doesn't really busy herself with British gossip. My parents are visiting with her parents. My application to leave the country for a holiday was denied, though, remember?'

'Ahh, yes. We already knew we might need you, I guess. But why are you letting your parents dictate your romantic life?'

'I've been engaged twice, Granger, not even counting this thing. Apparently, I'm not that good at finding and keeping my own witches. Besides, I'm not letting my parents dictate anything. I'm just going to go out with her and see if I like her.'

'Under no pressure whatsoever.'

'Says you. I will bet all the money I just received that the reason you don't have a boyfriend - let alone a husband - even though you have no social limitations, is because you're still holding out for Weasley. And considering the way he looks at you, I'm also going to guess that _you_ are the one dragging your feet. What I'm curious to know is whether you're not moving on because of the social expectations that you'll end up with him, or because he's your safe option and it's hard to let go of that.'

'You think you're being clever now, don't you?' she grumbled, glaring at him.

He knew he was being clever. She was judging him, so he was having a bit of a poke at her obvious sore spots in return. It was his specialty and she was easy like that. 'I merely thought we were discussing the viability of each other's love life strategies, and at this time, I definitely feel like mine is more viable.'

She pursed her lips. 'Wait a minute... you said you'd been engaged _twice_? I'll assume that you were engaged to Parkinson, considering how long you went out, but... who's the other one?'

'She's none of your business, Granger.'

'But what if someone brings her up?'

'That would be _very_ bad form.'

'True. But aren't all your friends and associates bigots that would love to see me squirm?'

She had a point. He sighed. 'There was no drama. She simply decided that we weren't as well-matched as she wanted and broke it off.'

'Was that before or after you lost your money?'

The insinuation really irked Draco. 'Believe it or not, Granger, it had nothing to do with money.'

'Your winning personality, then?'

'Not really, no. We just weren't in love, and she decided she wanted that.'

Granger stared at him. 'Wait, so it wasn't about money and your parents hadn't found her for you, yet you weren't the least bit in love?'

'I thought we'd make a good couple. She had many qualities I admired and would like in a wife. I thought we could have a more meaningful relationship, but she'd rather have the flightiness of infatuation.'

'You're such a romantic.'

'No. I'm not. I don't find falling in love to be very pleasant, and I hate it when it happens and seek to avoid it. I hate the drama and the fighting and the fact that no matter what you do, someone will get hurt, sometimes repeatedly. I just want a calm companionship.'

'Then get a dog.'

'Dogs offer limited interactions, and I'm quite certain that relationship wouldn't give me any offspring.'

Granger wrinkled her nose. 'Ew.'

'Quite.' There was a brief silence where she didn't follow up on the topic. 'Well?' he finally prodded. 'Aren't you going to give me the lecture about how I'm wrong and how falling in love is the greatest thing ever?'

She shook her head. 'No. I think you might have a point.'

That took him by surprise. 'What?'

'I mean, you're not _entirely_ right, but I think you might have a point about a calm, drama-free companionship.'

'Ah. Weasley. Of course.'

She shrugged, neither confirming nor denying his guess. 'But I think that you'd have to be careful when looking for such a relationship. Because if one person falls in love and the other one doesn't, then it could really get ugly, and you'd wind up with far more hurt feelings than in a normal relationship gone awry.'

'How so?'

'You'd be together, but one of you would have the distance whilst the other one wouldn't. The person in love would constantly be pining, hoping for more, for things to develop, and as time passed, they'd get more and more hurt and frustrated by _almost_ having the thing they wanted, and they'd be miserable and lash out... Eventually there'd be nothing left but bitterness and resentment on both ends.'

Again, he found himself surprised. 'You sound like you've tried it.'

She grimaced. 'Not quite. But I've glimpsed the devastating potential, so be careful with that.'

'At least now I know why you're not with Weasley.'

'You don't know anything.'

'Then enlighten me.'

'No.'

'That's not fair! I told you about my past relationships.'

'And you know everything you need to know about mine,' she insisted.

'Fine. Then I'll ask Weasley at the wedding.' He didn't really intend to, but her refusal to share was triggering a childish need to make threats in him.

'You'll do no such thing,' she merely scoffed. 'You'll act nice and pretend to be happily in love.'

He snorted at that. 'Here's to our happy union,' he said, raising his glass.

'May it be brief and not lethal to either of us,' she added, raising her glass in response.

Indeed. One could always hope.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note:** I do believe this is the first time I have a wedding. Huh.  


* * *

'Suck it in! No, more! Suck. It. In!' Ginny violently pulled at Hermione's dress, almost cracking Hermione's ribs and making the seams give dangerously.

'Careful with that!' Hermione objected. 'It won't do to tear it.' She tried to adjust the dress, but it was sort of difficult with Ginny "helping" like this.

'What's happening?' Hermione's mother asked as she entered the room. She was early. Why was she early? And _why_ was her timing so impeccable that she chose to show up just as Hermione didn't fit into her dress?

Hermione desperately tried to signal to Ginny to _shut up_, but Ginny was too frustrated to notice. 'We had this dress fitted just a few days ago, and now she can't get into it! What on earth have you been eating, Hermione?'

Hermione's mother opened her mouth, but Hermione hurriedly said, 'No, Mum. I'm not. A few _days_, remember? It doesn't go that fast.'

Her mother smiled. 'Oh, with the cravings and such, it could.'

The only thing Hermione craved right now was for this to be over. 'I think we put it on wrong,' she told Ginny. 'It feels like maybe something got stuck.'

'Here let me.' Her mother got down on her knees, reached up under Hermione's dress and tugged at the flimsy slip underneath. Hermione felt something give, and suddenly she could breathe again. And after Ginny had stopped tugging and had actually zipped the dress, Hermione could breathe _comfortably_ again.

'Crisis averted!' Ginny triumphantly announced.

Hermione shot her a dark look. If her mother hadn't arrived, then they'd have had a much larger crisis to avert, since Ginny would've suffocated her in her attempt to stuff her down this thing.

'Something's off,' Hermione's mother said. 'Look at this crease here,' she pointed at a spot at Hermione's side, which Hermione couldn't see without twisting awkwardly.

'Stand still!' Ginny reprimanded. 'Yes, I see it. I'm sure that wasn't there before either. It's like it's actually a little loose now. It must be a seam on the inside'

'No one will notice,' Hermione said. 'It's fine.'

'I noticed it, didn't I?' her mother sharply responded. 'If someone will get me a needle and some thread, I'll fix it in a jiffy.'

'No need for that,' Ginny said, pulling out her wand. 'I'll fix it.'

Hermione's eyes widened. 'No, do- nngghh!' She gasped as the dress began tightening painfully around her midriff.

'Stop that!' her mother said, pushing Ginny aside. 'Make it the right size again and get me a needle.'

Looking slightly abashed, Ginny complied, muttering something about how it had worked the last time. Hermione very much doubted it had and happily stripped out of the top part of the dress so her mother could fix the detail for her.

'This really is a lovely dress,' her mother said, carefully getting to her feet again after the quick mend and smoothing over the front of the dress, doing minor adjustments.

'There have to be some perks to marrying a rich git,' Ginny commented.

Hermione groaned. 'Ginny...'

'Sorry!' Ginny held up her hands, palms outwards. 'Sorry. It just slipped out. I'm happy for you. Really, I am. I mean, I don't know what kind of man he's grown into, but he must be something special for you to fall arse over elbows for him like this. And anyone who can draw you out of your shell can only be good for you in my book.'

Hermione wrinkled her nose, ignoring her mother telling her not to do that because she'd get permanent creases. 'Shell? What do you mean shell? I don't have a shell. I have a very active social life.'

'You do have a shell, dear,' her mother said.

'See? Even your mother agrees.' Ginny shook her head. 'I don't think you've been out with a single wizard since you broke it off with Ron. Apart from Malfoy, I mean. And heaven knows how that happened.'

'But I was trying to figure out what I wanted!'

'And you found it, so that's all settled,' her mother interjected. 'I'm really looking forward to meeting this young man.'

'What... you didn't even introduce him to your _mother_ yet?' Ginny asked, aghast.

Hermione flinched. 'We've been pressed for time...'

'That's another thing, what's the great rush? What happened to taking it slow?' Ginny frowned. 'Something's fishy here.'

Hermione sent a tired glance in her mother's direction and once again preemptively said, '_Not_ pregnant. We just... wanted to be married. But sneaking off would send the wrong signal on his end, so I refused to do that and... here we are.'

'What kind of signal would that be?' her mother asked, puzzled.

'Uh-oh,' Ginny said. 'You didn't even tell her _that_ part?'

Hermione avoided Ginny's eyes. 'I'm marrying him. I didn't want...'

Ginny sighed and grabbed Hermione's mother's arm. 'Here, Mrs Granger, I'll fill you in. Just remember that it's all in the past, and your daughter has impeccable judgement.'

Impeccable judgement, indeed. Suddenly Hermione found herself alone in a dress she was afraid to sit down in without help because she might wrinkle it before the ceremony.

The ceremony. Ugh.

At least there hadn't been a rehearsal dinner. Harry had tried to make her arrange one, but Hermione had put her foot down. Malfoy's family wasn't around to arrange it as was custom, and she was tired and stressed out and she _hated_ having her parents get too involved in this.

Tomorrow morning they would leave for their honeymoon, and then the true wait could finally begin. It was all set up and she would be the bait. It was always fun to wait around for someone to come and kill you. At least she got a free holiday out of it. That, and hopefully some justice. But maybe she should take a leave from work afterwards to recover from all this stress. She was beginning to feel the reality of the situation.

She heard someone open and close the door and then turn the lock.

She laughed and began turning around. 'That's really not necess- Malfoy! What are _you_ doing here? Get out before someone sees you!'

He held his hands up as if to placate her. 'I saw the Weasley and that other woman leave, and I just... I have to talk to you!' He began pacing.

Sighing, Hermione forgot all about wrinkling the dress and plonked down in a chair. 'What is it?'

'This whole... thing... it's making me uncomfortable!' He was pulling at his collar as if it were strangling him. 'That's almost everyone I know out there, Granger. They'll be watching me... us... and...' He shook his head. 'Why do it this way? Why couldn't we be more... subtle about it?'

Hermione looked at him for a long time. 'You're not wearing robes,' she then finally said, lacking anything else to say.

'Huh?' He looked down himself, like he was surprised to hear that. 'Oh. Yeah. Seemed like a good idea at the time. I wanted to match you. But it's still a little robe-like, isn't it? Best of both worlds. I like trousers. They don't get caught on things.' He was babbling.

Hermione almost rubbed her eyes but then remembered the make-up she was wearing. What a bother. 'Where's your best man?' she asked. 'Can't you vent your nerves at him?'

'Best man?' he muttered. 'Well, he's busy, isn't he? Besides, I don't think I can really talk to him.'

'What on earth would he be doing if not calming you?'

He stopped and glanced at her. 'Potter asked to be appointed. Said he'd have an easier time keeping an eye on the guests. And I suppose it might make sense that if I were marrying _you_, I'd choose to show my goodwill by choosing _him_ as best man. He's off organising security, though. And I'm... mostly brushing my teeth because I vomited earlier and I can't stop feeling gross.'

Hermione wrinkled her nose. 'Ew. And thanks. Always good to know that the thought of a wedding to me makes you feel so good.'

He began pacing again. 'I don't think it's you. I just... don't like it. The thought of standing up there and making those vows makes me sweaty and gives me the chills at the same time.'

'The vows are not real, Malfoy.'

'I know they're not real! But everyone will look at us and think they are, and I have to act like they are and... this whole thing... it's so pervasive that... it... it... I don't even know.'

'It feels real?'

'In an unreal way.'

'Yes, you certainly are making sense now, Malfoy.'

'The marriage isn't real, but the wedding is, isn't it? Even if the vows aren't binding, the whole thing is still as real as it gets. They're all celebrating us, Granger. Why do we have to do this?'

'Calm down, Malfoy. It'll all be over soon. We'll retire early from the party and leave tomorrow morning, and by the time we get back, I'm sure Harry will have found a way to let everyone know about the scheme.'

'That doesn't help me _now_!'

Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead. 'Don't you have some friend who can entertain you until this thing starts? Sounds like you could use a bit of a distraction.'

'No... No friend.'

She scowled at him. 'Now is not the time to shut people out just because you hate what they think, Malfoy.'

'No, I know... I'm just a little short on friends. I don't really know what I would talk to any of the wizards I know about.'

'Grand. And I'm sure it would be the same if you marry that French witch, right?' Hermione sarcastically said.

Malfoy shrugged. 'I'd make her brother my best man to further the ties. He seems all right. But as far as I know, you don't have a brother, and I _really_ wouldn't know what to talk to a Muggle about, no offence.'

'What about Pansy?'

'What about her?'

'You invited her, right?'

'Yeah...' He laughed a bit nervously. 'She should be down there somewhere, possibly taking bets on whether this will happen or one of us will run away screaming.'

'Why don't you have her brought up to talk to?' Hermione suggested. Hopefully, talking to a friend would calm Malfoy enough that he would be able to go through with this and wouldn't vomit on the guests.

'She's a witch, Granger.'

'So? We're modern people. I wouldn't mind my fiancé having a witch as his best friend, soothing his nerves.'

'She's _also_ my ex-fiancée.'

Hermione waved a hand. 'Years in the past.'

Malfoy scoffed at that. 'You wouldn't be so accepting if it were real.'

'I would too! I would trust my husband-to-be implicitly!' At least she hoped she would.

'Right. Of course you would.'

'And,' she stated whilst getting to her feet again, 'I would _also_ want him to get out and leave me alone to get dressed!'

'You're not exactly naked, Granger. I think I would've noticed.'

'But I'm not done either, and my mother and Ginny will be back any moment so shoo!' She stepped forwards, shooing him towards the door.

'What if I just claim that I missed you?'

'Won't work. Go away.'

'You look really pretty in that dress.'

'Won't work either.'

'Come on, Granger. I go nuts when I'm all alone over there.'

'I told you already - get Parkinson!'

'People will talk.'

'Let them talk. Maybe we can teach them something about trust!' She leant around him and unlocked the door. 'Out!'

He sent her a forlorn look, but finally did as she asked. Hermione breathed her relief and went back to the business of staring at herself in a mirror.

It was only a few minutes before her mother and Ginny returned. 'Where were we...' her mother began. 'Something old, something new, something borrowed - here, have my earrings, they go perfectly with the pearls - something blue. All set.'

'Everything all right, Mum?' Hermione couldn't help but ask.

Her mother briskly nodded. 'Don't worry about it. Obviously, the boy grew up. His parents, on the other hand... I simply don't understand. It's perhaps fortunate that we won't have to meet them today.'

Hermione found that very fortunate as well.

* * *

'What am I doing, what am I doing, what am I doing?' Draco groaned, rocking back and forth with his face in his hands. He had no idea why he was suddenly panicking like this - in fact, nobody was more surprised than him - but all of a sudden, this wedding seemed almost like an insurmountable task.

'You're getting married, it would seem,' Pansy's cool voice replied. 'Although why, I'm not so sure.'

'Because... it's the thing to do, right?' It was hard to evade Pansy's questions when his mind was busy re-running the same disastrous thoughts over and over again for maximum fear.

'Why did you ask me to come up here? I'm not so sure your bride will like it if she hears about it.'

'She was the one who suggested it,' he muttered. 'To get rid of me. Something about getting dressed, although she was quite clearly already dressed.'

Pansy stared at him. 'You saw her? That's bad luck, Draco. Very bad luck. Now it won't end well.'

He slowly removed his hands from his face. 'With the general odds of this marriage working out, you base your prognosis on the fact that I _saw_ her today? That's... special.'

'Oh, shut up, Draco.' She pouted. 'Are you sure you told her about us? It wouldn't do to get you in trouble already.'

'Yes, she knows about us. She merely doesn't care. Am I not lucky?' He didn't quite realise how that sounded until it was out, and then he had to bite his lip not to curse at his own mistake. He'd merely been feeling annoyed that she wouldn't even _pretend_ to care, but he was sure Pansy would read it differently.

Pansy's face softened. Lovely. At least she now seemed to believe he fancied Granger. 'Maybe she just trusts you.'

'Why would she trust me?'

'Um, I don't know, because she's _marrying_ you?'

'There was a time when I was going to marry _you_!'

'But we never quite made it this far, did we, Draco?'

'No! We didn't! Because I... because I couldn't be trusted.' He buried his face in his hands again, feeling extra stressed over bringing up unpleasant memories. Then he tried to explain away his reaction. 'She doesn't know that part; maybe that's why she trusts you here.'

'It doesn't really matter what you did and didn't do back then. What matters is how you treat _her_. I'm quite certain you learnt your lesson with regards to certain things.' Pansy put her hand on Draco's shoulder. 'It will be all right.'

'I hate how everyone looks at us. They stare and whisper. It was kind of funny before, but not today. She doesn't really know, because she's been shut away, but I've been out a little... they're just here to gawk, aren't they?'

'It doesn't matter what everyone thinks or even why they're here. You should learn to ignore others. You should be marrying the witch you want to spend the rest of your life with in a very short time, isn't that what counts?'

Draco just barely suppressed a snort and was unable to hold back a wrinkled nose. 'Yeah...'

Pansy shook her head. 'People won't care for long. And some even find your story to be quite cute, even if I personally don't understand some of the holes in it.'

Draco shrugged, not willing to fill more of those holes with lies right now. 'Stand with me out there?'

'Certainly not! You have your best man, don't you?'

'But I want you there,' Draco whinged. 'Gra- ah, Hermione won't care. She said we were modern people.'

'Not _that_ modern,' Pansy said. 'Really, Draco. Asking your ex-fiancée to stand with you is just not done.'

'But you're the only one here I _like_.'

'Apart from her, I should hope.'

Draco made a weak wave. 'You know what I mean.'

'Hmm. Isn't it time for you to get out there?'

'Can't I just... sign some papers in here and then move on to the party?'

'Coward.'

'Yes.'

'Get out there!'

He sighed and got to his feet. 'Is there still time to get drunk?'

'Go!'

He was very glad he wasn't really getting married if this was how women treated married men by default.

* * *

Hermione didn't know where all the time went, because suddenly she was ushered by everyone to get ready and get out there. People were checking her hair and her dress and her shoes and her gloves and her... everything.

Heaven forbid that anything should be even slightly off.

And then, suddenly, she was walking on her father's arm. She did her best to look around at people and smile and very much wished she'd opted for a veil. She didn't feel like smiling. Her father would proudly be giving her away without even knowing it was all a scam. She hated doing this to him. At least Malfoy looked positively ill as he was waiting for her and unsubtly sending Pansy Parkinson helpless glances down in the crowd. Hermione had half thought he'd ask Parkinson to stand with him, but maybe he hadn't found that appropriate for the occasion.

Finally shuffled into place, she barely noticed what the...- minister? She wasn't even sure what he was - was saying. Something or other about love, honour and cherish. The words were a bit hard to stomach, everything considered. She just wanted this part to be over.

It wouldn't be a long ceremony. She had specifically asked that it be kept to a minimum, because she didn't want to stand there on the spot for longer than she had to, and right now she was counting the seconds until she could stop pretending, or at the very least stop being the center of everyone's attention.

The right answers were eventually given, although Malfoy hesitated just long enough to make Hermione nervous that he was going to bolt and leave everyone hanging. And then... the final part, the kiss. Hermione just stared for a second after it was announced. She'd completely forgotten that there would be a public kiss. But then she forced herself to smile and turned to receive the brief caress from Malfoy's cold, dry lips.

He seemed about as comfortable with this as she was.

But then it was done. It was over. Now they only had to survive the party, and then they didn't have to look anyone they knew in the eyes until it was time for the truth.

Oh, yay. The truth. That would be fun.

She glanced at Malfoy. He looked as frozen as his lips had felt. 'Look happy,' she hissed.

He gave a pained smile that only made him look constipated. 'This is over soon, right?'

'Of course... sometime after it gets dark...'

His hand tightened on her elbow. Funny, she hadn't even noticed he was holding onto it before. 'Before dark. Promise me.'

'Afraid of the dark now, Malfoy?'

'I'll vomit again and withdraw immediately if you don't say yes.'

She tried very hard not to roll her eyes. Someone might notice. 'All right. But in that case, you'll have to try even harder to look like you're in love and can't bear to share me.'

'Will "in lust" do?'

'I guess it'll have to, won't it?'

This time his grin looked more normal. 'Then we have a deal.'

* * *

Draco did everything that he thought he was supposed to do, but he hated every second of it and had a surprisingly hard time hiding that fact. He didn't want to meet Granger's parents. He didn't want to spend half an hour talking to her father. Yet, somehow, he had to do both those things, and he'd spent several minutes politely nodding along to Granger's father's jovial chatting before Granger's mother interfered, revealing that Muggles didn't _actually_ fly around with this thing called "jet packs" on their backs, and it certainly wasn't legal for a man to kill his daughter's husband if he wasn't to his liking.

At least that last thing was good. Draco didn't fancy getting killed before the plan that was causing him so much discomfort could come to fruition.

Pretending to be in lust wasn't hard. He _was_ in lust. True, the dress Granger was wearing was modest enough to make her look the epitome of chastity, but that innocent picture combined with the memory of kissing her against a wall, touching her intimately, only made things exciting. So now he had a fun new game - looking. The looking was fun in itself, but the real goal was to make Granger react to it. Preferably blush and act flustered.

One perk of his game was that it passed time quicker. Another perk was that people seemed to take it to mean that he had true feelings for Granger. How superficial they all were to mistake lust for deeper feelings. But the _best_ perk was how it made Granger uncomfortable and how she more than once hissed at him to tone it down or she would do something or other to him. As the day progressed, her threats even became more and more inventive, eventually involving very dull objects around his private parts.

He had no intentions of toning it down, however. He wanted to see if he could make that blush go all the way down to her neckline.

And then he wanted to follow the blush down below the neckline and have a taste of being married to Hermione Granger. Because _that_ was a state that definitely lacked perks so far.

He was currently intensely staring at her as she was standing with her back to him. She was wearing a comb of blue roses in her hair to match the wreath of blue roses outlining her waist. It was lovely; enhancing the innocent image - but he knew better than to believe in her innocence. She was passionate, manipulative and vindictive. All things he greatly admired in a witch, and all things that were the complete opposite of innocent. She'd pushed back her hair on one side so he could clearly see her bare neck. He had some fun picking out the spots he wanted to nibble and trying to imagine how she would react to it. She turned slightly and glanced over her shoulder, frowning briefly at him. She could feel him watching, then. That didn't cause him to back off or become less conspicuous; rather he watched her even more intensely. Let her be the uncomfortable one for once.

'I still can't figure out why you're marrying her,' Pansy said as she materialised next to him.

'I want her,' he simply replied. It was the overly simple truth, after all.

'That's not reason enough to get married.'

'She's also very clever, very pretty, and very popular and well-connected. If you disregard her unfortunate blood, she's a very good match.' He blinked as he realised his reasoning made sense. Funny. He'd never actually thought of Granger that way before. But it was true. If one were to ignore old conventions, she would possibly be one of the best matches he could possibly find, as far as society went.

Pansy gave an exaggerated sigh. 'Don't tell me that this is another match made with your head. You know that won't work, Draco.'

'How do you know that's not what she wants too?' he asked, feeling rather defensive. He didn't know if there was still some latent resentment on Pansy's end from how he'd destroyed their relationship, but she tended to always poke fun at his relationship decisions and it was a sore spot for him.

'I've met her,' she coolly replied. 'She does everything with her heart. And she usually gets away with it too. That's why she's so incredibly annoying and why I can't stand her.'

'That's my wife you're talking about.' He grabbed a drink from a tray and took a sip, feeling like maybe drinking was a good idea.

'I'm allowed not to like her,' Pansy insisted. 'She just married my ex. But, seriously, Draco... Did you mislead her?'

'No. Never. She knows exactly how I feel about her. She has her own reasons for wanting this marriage. Heck, I think she wants it more than I do.' Draco mentally patted himself on the back for sticking exactly to the truth.

'Hm. Something is off.' Pansy pursed her lips. 'What _are_ her reasons?'

Draco groaned. 'Enough with the interrogation, Pansy! We're married now and you'll just have to accept it!' At least for a week or so.

Pansy lifted her hands in surrender. 'All right,' she said. 'I won't keep you any longer.' And then she was gone, leaving to ogle his bride in peace for a moment before someone else noticed he was alone and open for bugging.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note:** Like I said, this will be 15 chapters, so almost halfway now. :)  


* * *

Hermione sighed and heavily sat down on the bed, giggling when she bounced. Ok. Maybe she was a little bit tipsy. It was hard not to get tipsy with all the toasts and such. At least she wasn't quite as drunk as Malfoy, who'd spent all day drinking, staring at her, and only occasionally deigning to entertain people.

'So... we're done for the day?' Malfoy asked, strolling in a bit unsteadily to take a seat in one of the room's armchairs.

Hermione nodded. 'Yes. We did the traditional running away from the party to be alone, so... now we're alone. I doubt anyone would disturb us.'

'But it's too early to go to sleep.' He checked his watch. 'Much too early.'

'You were the one who wanted to leave the party before dark, remember?'

'I remember. And I'm glad we did. I really didn't like it down there.'

'Funny. I thought you enjoyed those lascivious looks you were sending me.'

He grinned. 'That helped a bit. But, to be honest, even they were getting uncomfortable.'

'Really? You finally felt like you were pushing it?' Frowning, she got up and went to a full-size mirror, pulling up her skirts to check the ribbon of her left lace-up again. These shoes were absolutely gorgeous and reminded her of when she'd wanted to become a ballerina at five years old, but the left ribbon had already come undone several times today. Of course, she should really just take them off, but... she didn't want to yet. So instead of loosening it, she tightened it a bit.

'No... a different kind of discomfort. Maybe you shouldn't hike up your dress like that in front of me.'

She let her skirts fall and snorted. 'Getting excited about calves now, Malfoy?' she taunted, turning back around and enjoying the _whish_ of the dress as she did so.

'I could actually see your thighs too... and a hint of a blue garter. What's that all about? You're not wearing stockings.'

The blush that crept into Hermione's cheeks was inevitable but unwelcome. 'It's the traditional "something blue" in my family where there's usually a garter toss. Thankfully, that doesn't seem to be common at wizarding weddings. I'd neglected to tell my mother that my dress and accessories would all be blue, so she brought it along. I couldn't refuse wearing it.'

'Let me have another look at it.'

Hermione snorted again. Right, it was the garter he wanted to look at. 'No.'

'Come on. We're married. The least you can do is show me your garter.'

'We're _not_ married.'

'Show me or I'll go out there and tell everyone you won't even show me your legs. I wonder how that'll look.'

She rolled her eyes. 'Weak threat, Malfoy.'

'Mm-hmm. But you're still going to show me.'

Sighing yet again, she pulled up her dress. 'I can just slip it off.'

'No, no. This is good.' He got up and kneeled in front of her, squinting at the flimsy piece of silk.

Hermione was acutely embarrassed, but tried to hide it as best she could. She knew very well that he was only _doing_ this to embarrass her. That was apparently how he found his amusement today.

'It has our names on it,' he finally said, looking up at her.

She nodded. 'I noticed.'

'And the date.'

'Yeah.'

'Part of the tradition?'

She nodded again and he sat back up in his chair. There was a silence and it took Hermione a few moments to remember to drop her skirts back down and move over to sit back down again as well.

'Your mother is trying very hard to show her approval,' he finally said.

'I know.'

'You think this will hurt her?'

'I know it will.'

He winced. 'I hope Potter is paying you extra for that.'

'And what price would you put on breaking a mother's heart?' she growled at him. 'Not everything can be broken down to galleons, sickles and knuts.'

'Sorry,' he muttered. 'So... garter tossing. Tell me about this intriguing custom.'

Hermione pursed her lips. 'The groom removes the garter - sometimes with his teeth - and throws it to other single males. The one who catches it is said to marry next.'

'This isn't like when your father told me that Muggles are celibate for the first five years of marriage, is it?'

It was impossible for Hermione to keep from snorting a laugh. 'He told you that?'

'Yeah. It was one of his tales that I _did_ manage to see through.'

Still giggling, Hermione shook her head. 'No, it's a real custom. Although I've been to weddings where the bride just showed that she _was_ wearing a garter. For the groom to remove. Later.'

Draco quirked an eyebrow. 'Interesting. But I don't recall you showing off yours.'

'No. I doubt most of the party would have appreciated it.'

'I would have.' He grinned slowly and, if Hermione had to say so, rather drunkenly.

'I'm sure you would.' Was he flirting with her? It was very unsettling if he was. She supposed he had showed some sexual interest in her, but she didn't really like it when he was too blatant about it. It felt too strange. He used to find her too filthy to even casually touch, so how was she supposed to interpret this sudden change of heart?

'Does this mean I get to remove it now?' he asked, completely oblivious to her thoughts.

'No.'

'Aw, but I am the groom and that's what I'm supposed to be doing.'

'See, I _know_ you're drunk when you even suggest such a thing and expect me to answer anything but "no".'

He shrugged and stared at the darkening sky outside the window. 'It's our wedding night.'

'It is not our wedding night.'

'But it is. The garter says so.'

Her lips tightened at the mention of the garter. She wanted to burn that thing. 'Nobody is in here. We can stop pretending now.'

'All day I had to convince people I wanted you and to do that, I had to look at you and... imagine things.'

'And I appreciate that you have such a vivid imagination.'

He groaned. ¨Fine. Then how about a drink?' He made a flourish, indicating a small side table with a tray with a decanter and a couple of glasses on it.

She raised an eyebrow. 'You don't think you've had enough?'

'No. Not nearly. Not if I'm going to have to keep my libido in check whilst we share my bed.'

She glanced at the bed she'd sat down on so freely. 'You couldn't have had a guest room made up for us?' Preferably one with twin beds, but Hermione wasn't going to say that out loud. Malfoy already thought her to be a bit of a coward when it came to close physical proximity with him.

'Nope. The harridan noticed where I slept and then she took over. I actually had to sleep in a guest room these past few days. I do like that blue silk bedding and the drapes, though. It suits our theme.'

Hermione groaned and then went over to the tray. 'This your doing?' she asked. 'And more importantly - does it contain alcohol?' She sniffed the decanter.

'I don't know,' he muttered. 'It's probably the harridan's doing. Let's put it to the test. If it's alcohol, I might actually reconsider giving her a bonus.'

She poured them each a glass, gave one to Malfoy and raised her own. 'Here's to not going to bed sober,' she said.

He merrily joined her in that toast.

* * *

Draco took a long gulp of his drink and was disappointed - although not really surprised - to find that it was only a kind of lemonade with a tangy aftertaste. 'So much for her bonus,' he said.

Granger had sat down - in a chair this time - and carefully sipped hers and upon realising that it was harmless, she took a healthy swig as well. 'Oh, well,' she replied. 'At least it's good. I just wonder who-' Her eyes widened. 'Oh, crap!'

'What?' he asked, alarmed.

'We had the ceremony mere hours ago and we drink an unknown substance put forward by an unknown person? I need to go find Harry.' She got up and smoothed down her dress.

Draco shook his head. Wasn't she overreacting just a tad? 'You can't. If someone sees you, you could risk the whole scheme.'

'And what if it was poisoned, hmm?' she countered. 'You tired of living already?'

'I'm sure it wasn't. Your killer wouldn't risk getting us both so early, would he?'

'He could be desperate by now - we don't know! He's so bloody unpredictable!' She held a palm to her forehead and once more plonked down on the edge of his bed, seemingly already forgetting that it was _his bed_. 'I just... it hadn't occurred to me that I had to be careful tonight. But of course I do. And I can't just get smashed, either; what was I thinking?'

'Relax. We're both fine. It's just lemonade, put there by the harridan. We're... both...' He frowned as his focus shifted a little and he noticed his heart had begun pounding.

'Oh, God,' she groaned. 'You felt that too, didn't you?'

His breath was becoming more rapid, shallower. 'If it were poison, you'd have felt it first. You're smaller than me.' He looked up at her, and a jolt went through him as he was faced with generous cleavage from a Granger bent forward, cradling her head. He couldn't look away even if he tried. Instead he decided to try to figure out whether she was wearing a bra, and if she was, what it would look like. It would have to be tiny and strapless to not be seen behind the pearly straps of the dress. Probably made of a thin material. Would it be sheer? He was certain her knickers would be sheer. And white. Chaste and naughty all at once. He wanted to remove her underwear with his teeth, but then again, he'd wanted to do that all day.

'I... feel...' She straightened up and caught his gaze, her eyes widening in shock at what she saw there. 'No. Not poison,' she muttered, tearing her eyes away and blushing. 'Who would do this to us?'

He shook his head, moistening his lips. None of his friends, for sure. Except maybe Pansy for the laugh. 'Maybe it's a perk supplied by the harridan?' he suggested.

'Why would she give us an aphrodisiac?' Granger hissed. 'Because that's what this is, isn't it? I have heightened sensitivity and a more generous blood flow to... places. Everything is tingling. And the way you're looking at me...'

Yes, that quite aptly described it for him as well. That, and he was _completely_ unable to stop staring at her. 'Maybe if we sit still, it will go away,' he suggested. Fat chance. He'd been randy before he'd had this drink, now it was just infinitely worse.

She nodded.

And then they sat still whilst the silence stretched.

And stretched.

And stretched.

'I can't take it any longer!' she suddenly groaned and jumped to her feet, beginning to pace.

Draco glanced at his clock. 'It's only been a few minutes, Granger.'

'I know, but sitting there in that tension... We have to do something. Talk. Let's talk!'

'About what?'

'I don't know... You think of something! Why do I have to think of everything?' She began tucking at her curls, probably to keep her hands busy so they wouldn't do anything else.

The thought of what she might actually want to do with those hands did very little to help his state.

'Because you're the one who wants to talk when I barely have any blood left in my brain,' he replied.

'Oh, you're impossible. All right, then. Um, what do you plan to do after we're done with this and you have your money back?'

'Leave.'

She turned to look at him, her dress swishing, and arched an eyebrow. 'Leave?' One of her hands had slipped to rest on her breast, but she didn't seem to notice. He noticed, though. Oh, how he noticed.

'Yes. I'll go to the Continent and spend some time not worrying about anything, least of all money.' He bit his lip, willing her hand into motion. It didn't matter if it were to stroke, squeeze or wander, he just wanted to see it _move_.

'And for how long do you plan to do that?' she asked, for all the world seeming interested. Drat.

He shrugged. 'A few months. A year. A few years. I don't know. Until I feel better.'

'Feel better?'

His lips quirked. 'Yes, Granger. I don't expect you to understand, but it's rather stressful to constantly worry about losing your home, to be the recipient of everyone's scorn, and to know that if you sneeze in a way the Ministry doesn't like, you're going to Azkaban. I'll enjoy the freedom and the _peace_ very much.' He could also think of a few other things he would enjoy very much, should they happen, but that was really kind of beside the point, considering that Granger didn't seem inclined to let anything happen.

'And you'll marry that French witch while you're at it?' Granger cocked her head.

'Maybe. If I like her. But, to be honest, I don't think I want another large wedding any time soon, and I doubt she'd want to keep it small. She'd want to play into people's expectations.' It would certainly be something new if she wanted a small wedding. Most witches Draco had known wanted something big and expensive.

'I'm sure a _real_ wedding would feel different,' Granger said. 'Less nerves from misleading everyone and more happiness about actually getting married.'

'Even so, it would probably remind me of this wedding, and nobody wants that.'

She nodded. 'I can see that.'

The topic exhausted, another charged silence fell over them as Draco was now imagining her touching herself, since she wouldn't oblige and actually _do_ it.

'What'll you do afterwards, then?' he asked in order to not be swallowed up by the heat coursing through his veins. He wished he'd had time to get even more drunk, because then there would at least have been a chance that the lemonade's effect would have been dulled.

'Nothing.' She primly sat down again.

'Nothing?'

'Well, I'll go back to work. But nothing will change for me.'

'But what are they giving you to do this?' he pressed.

'Nothing,' she repeated. 'I volunteered. I get a paid leave from work whilst we're gone and my expenses covered, but that's it. I just want to catch a murderer.'

That was odd. He stood to gain everything and she stood to gain... nothing? 'So... nothing at all is in it for you?'

'I know it's hard for you to understand, Malfoy, but I couldn't just sit back and let this maniac go unchallenged.'

He nodded. That was Granger in a nutshell. He'd probably never have volunteered without getting anything in return, though. But then again, the ministry was holding too much of his life hostage to even make it feasible for him not to ask for some of it back.

He would make sure to make some extra donations after this was all over. Perhaps even to that half-breed thing. He could do it in Granger's name, so she'd feel like she'd got something from this whole scheme as well. Maybe. If she didn't drive him too bonkers before they got back.

'It's not helping, is it?' she asked, sounding frustrated.

He shook his head. No matter what direction he forced his mind to go, his body was very busy with its own agenda.

'Do you think there's any way to stop it?'

'I think there's a way to make it wear off sooner...' He bit his lip to stop the groan that threatened to spill at the thought of the things they could be doing.

'Wha-?' She seemed to realise what he'd meant and flushed a deep scarlet. 'Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy.'

'I'm not necessarily talking about sex.' _Yes, I am._ 'But if we were to indulge a _little_ bit, then we'd be soothed and the way the blood would be pumping, it would wear off in no time.'

She shook her head. 'You're an opportunist, Malfoy.'

Yes. Yes, he was. 'You can hex me if you feel like I'm trying to force it,' he said. 'But how else are we going to survive the night with our wits intact?'

Never mind that it was already too late for that.

* * *

Hermione wasn't naïve and she certainly wasn't stupid. She could tell that Malfoy was only seizing his chance to get off for a bit with the new and "improved" her. It annoyed her to no end, but unfortunately that annoyance couldn't calm the hot rush of blood to all her sensitive areas.

'You don't even like me,' she scoffed, trying to buy some more time to calm her hormones.

'What's like got to do with it?' he asked, standing up. 'Are you going to tell me you hated the last snog?'

Hated was such a strong word. 'I didn't hate it, no. But if you're asking if it was enjoyable - not really. You were much too forward and I knew people were watching.' Also, it was hard to relax completely with someone she knew despised her blood.

'Nobody is watching now.'

'You're still too forward.'

'You think any advance from me is too forward.' He smirked, sure that he was right and that he had some sort of point.

'Well... yes!' she admitted, slightly confused. 'I do find it odd that you want to touch me. Wouldn't it be strange if I didn't find it odd?'

He shook his head. 'You're very pretty. Of course I want to touch you.'

She looked away to hide her renewed annoyance at his shallowness. 'I'm still Muggle-born.'

'Ah, that.' He shrugged casually. 'I don't really care.'

She snorted at him.

'I mostly pretend to care to bother you,' he elaborated. 'Bothering you is fun.'

She snorted again.

'And, I admit, I'm usually avoiding Muggle-born and half-blood witches, but that's mostly to keep the domestic peace.'

'You truly aren't afraid of your parents.' She didn't even attempt to tone down her sarcasm.

'Not afraid. But why fight when where's no reason to?'

'Interesting how you wouldn't consider this a reason, considering the restrictions on your _freedom_.'

'Now you're just trying to manipulate me into fighting with my parents,' he said, apparently not getting her point at all.

'Am not! Why would I care?' she scoffed.

'You care enough to have this argument with me. Or could it be that you are merely stalling?'

She _was_ stalling. 'It's a bad idea, Malfoy.'

'Are we or are we not supposed to pretend to be newly-weds for a while? And can we always know when we'll be watched?'

'Now who's manipulative?'

He sat down next to her. 'I'm going insane, Granger. Aren't you?'

She was unable to reply in the negative because she really was going insane, and she could feel his body heat and it made her itch to just reach out and touch him. And then, when his lips touched hers, a jolt of firey need went through her. Oh, this was a _really_ bad idea.

* * *

The hesitation was still very obvious in Granger and a gentleman might have backed off until he was sure the lady had no objections. Draco, however, didn't fancy himself a gentleman right this minute, and so long she wasn't kicking and scratching, he really didn't give a fig about her Good Girl reservations.

He was on fire and he could _tell_ that she was too, so why all the fuss? Did anyone really care how they felt about each other outside of the bedroom when they had a chance for this kind of electric heat inside it? Even if it was just for tonight?

He certainly didn't.

Carefully, he parted her lips and let his tongue dart in to touch hers. Another jolt of the delicious current shot through him, leaving him fully charged and shivering with a strange energy. He'd have to ask the harridan what was in that drink, because he really wanted to try this again sometime, perhaps with someone a little more enthusiastic.

He gently nudged her backwards and she acquiesced. Lovely. Now, how did he avoid being too forward? He didn't really know. He had all his weight on one arm, and with the other arm free, he couldn't help but cupping her breast. He was, however, frustrated to realise that the softness was deceptive. The bodice of her dress was incredibly stiff and touching her breast through it didn't relieve any of his need. No wonder she hadn't really responded to her own hand on her breast. He doubted she could feel a thing, because he certainly couldn't.

'Stupid dress,' he muttered against her neck, deciding to check out all those areas on her throat, neck and shoulder that he'd mapped out earlier.

'I thought you liked it,' she gasped into his hair. She was affected in spite of herself.

'It's pretty,' he conceded without removing his lips from her skin, 'but I can't feel you through it... And I need to feel you...'

She didn't respond with anything but a low whimper, so he coaxed her onto her side without stopping his journey, and carefully unzipped her bodice. Thank God it wasn't a button-up. He waited for her to object in some way, but when she didn't, he slipped his hand in to cup one of her breasts. Oh, yes. This was _exactly_ what he wanted. This was the real softness that he remembered and craved like nothing else. And from the way she pressed into his hand and tore at his clothes, she wasn't opposed to the idea either.

* * *

Hermione was dimly aware of boundaries being breached. Very dimly. She was also dimly aware that she should say something, try to stop Malfoy, but... then she'd run the risk of him actually stopping. She wanted to have this crazy fantasy. She was wearing a dress she couldn't normally dream to afford, had had a beautiful - albeit awkward - wedding party, and was now feeling a passion beyond anything she could ever remember feeling before, no matter what the reason for her feeling it might be.

She didn't mind it at all if this were to play out like a wedding night. She could always have regrets afterwards, like a good girl.

He moaned into her mouth and then she felt his hand reaching down and pulling her dress up so he could run his hand up her bare thigh. Everywhere he touched, her skin tingled for more, and she willingly let her leg fall outwards, encouraging more contact.

'Madness,' he muttered, but thankfully he didn't think madness was a reason to stop. Instead, he began kissing and nibbling his way down her throat and neck. Her eyes slid shut and she let her head fall back so she could get more.

Suddenly it occurred to her that she'd been only getting rather than giving, so she reached out and began undoing Malfoy's... coat? She wasn't really sure what it was called. All she knew was that it was fastened with clasps in front, and she could undo them without opening her eyes. After a job well done - and she was quite proud that her shaking fingers were that effective - she pulled it wide open and let her palms run up and down his naked torso, enjoying the feel of his warm, naked skin against the palms of her hands.

He made some kind of approving sound, and she could feel his muscles tensing wherever her palms touched. It became even more pronounced when she'd ghost the tip of a finger across his skin. Was he ticklish? She looked up at him, now just staring down at her, and couldn't help but smile at him through her haze of blinding need. It would be kind of cute if he was ticklish. It would be one of those normal quirks that even people that were not Malfoy had.

He slowly shook his head as if to clear it. 'Are you... Do you... I mean... How much did you drink?' He swallowed.

She arched an eyebrow and grabbed the edge of his trousers to pull him closer. 'Suddenly hearing from that otherwise withered conscience of yours?' she couldn't help but taunt.

'I just...' He looked pained. 'I really don't need for you to regret anything and then charge me with rape... I mean, you very clearly said no, and now you're very clearly saying yes... And I'm a little confused, and it's very hard to think. So... are you sure that you're sure?'

'Didn't you drink it as well?' she asked, casually undoing his belt.

'Yes, but... I'm the bad person that some people would like to see in Azkaban, no matter what the reason.' He stared at her fingers as if mesmerized. 'Besides, my dying conscience did give a twinge, so maybe I'm less affected than you.'

'Hmm.' Hermione let her fingers dance below the belt area in a moment of unusual boldness. 'You seem affected to me.'

He groaned again, sounding a little frustrated. 'You're not even listening, are you?'

She shook her head. 'Don't worry. If I decide to regret anything, then I'll charge whoever put that pitcher in this room.'

Just for a moment, he only looked at her, but then he shrugged. 'Works for me.'

And then his hands and mouth returned to where they were supposed to be.


	8. Chapter 8

Her hands were like fire on his skin. Or, rather, his skin was like fire wherever her hands touched. The good kind of searing lusty heat. And he couldn't take it any longer. He couldn't pretend to be level-headed when hands like that were around. Especially not when soft lips and hot breath wanted to explore the hollow at his collarbone. He didn't usually pray much, but right now he prayed that he would soon feel her tongue on him.

Indeed, Draco was aware that he might be a little insane by now, but he didn't care. If this was how insanity felt, then he didn't want to go back to normal.

Suddenly he was lifted off Granger and hurled to the side. Not very hard and not very far, but hard and fast enough to be a bit disgruntled at the sudden lack of contact. 'What are you playing at?' he hissed, feeling both angry and confused. He'd given her an out and she'd still said yes, so what was this supposed to mean?

Granger propped herself up on her elbows, looking extremely dishevelled and like she'd just been naughty. He liked that look on her. 'What, me?' she asked, aghast. 'I'm not the one to- oh!' Suddenly she scrambled to sit up straighter and make sure that her bodice was somewhat in place.

Taking his cue from her line of sight, he saw something that instantly chilled his blood: His mother. She was standing there, wand and eyes ablaze.

Groaning, he got to his knees and hesitantly moved towards Granger. 'I got this,' he muttered under his breath, barely knowing what to do with himself as his mother just stared at him.

'Um... Hello, Mother,' he said, as casually as he could. 'How was France?'

She mutely raised her wand at him and he flinched, keeping quiet.

Granger stared from him to his mother. 'I told you, you should tell her,' she then said, her voice not betraying any fear. Damn Gryffindor. He put a hand on her shoulder to silence her.

'Tell me... what?' his mother just barely managed through clenched teeth.

Draco shrugged, feeling about eight years old again. 'Nothing, really...'

'Nothing?' Granger objected. 'You call a wedding feast nothing? And why did she bring a peacock to- ow!' He'd squeezed her shoulder.

His mother slowly walked closer, her anger - and magic - barely leashed. It was palpable and Draco couldn't fathom how Granger managed to look pouty rather than scared. Being scared would be the _wise_ thing here.

'Could you zip me?' Granger muttered to him, and after spending a few moments figuring out what she meant, he obliged. He supposed it was fair to want to die dressed.

Finally, his mother spoke. 'You,' she said, nodding at Granger. 'Get out!'

Granger calmly got to her feet, just barely avoiding stepping on that damn bird that always followed his mother around, even indoors. 'Straighten it out, Draco, _dear_,' she said. 'We have a honeymoon to attend to.'

His mother raised the wand that had been somewhat lowered. 'Out!'

Granger waltzed out and Draco cringed at the thought of dealing with this alone. His mother was rarely this monosyllabic.

'Explain to me, dear,' his mother said, her voice still cold as ice, 'how your father and I go away to secure you a bride, and then I come home to find you already married? And to _that_?'

'Just please tell me Father didn't murder any of the wedding guests yet.'

'Your father remains blissfully ignorant.' His mother seemed to have calmed some after Granger had left the room, but she was still cold as ice. 'I found it to be in the best interest of this family that he never find out.'

'How did you find out, then?' he quietly asked.

'After I'd complained to the Daily Prophet about certain issues going missing, they apologized and sent the ones we hadn't received. Imagine my surprise at seeing the news of your carnal relationship and subsequent engagement to this... person. I then destroyed them, told your father about the apology, and came up with an urgent reason to come back. Now, answer my questions.'

He awkwardly shrugged. 'I... guess I hoped it would all be over before you got back.'

'And then you imagined we'd just put up with your new bride?'

'No...' he muttered, looking down. 'I meant... all over.' How much could he say without giving up the scheme?

'Explain.'

'She's best friends with Potter. She promised to restore most of the funds we'd lost _and_ remove the threat of Azkaban if only I'd marry her.'

'That's not enough reason to marry one of her... kind.' His mother wrinkled her nose in distaste.

'No... but I figured I could make her divorce me in a few weeks. And if that doesn't work, then accidents happen, right?' He was beginning to sweat. He very badly wanted to loosen his collar, but, alas, there was no collar to loosen.

His mother did nothing but stare at him for several long moments. 'Madness,' she then murmured to herself. 'He must be touched with madness. It certainly isn't genius. I've never heard such a far-fetched idea in my life. And I married Lucius. That must be where the boy gets it from.'

Draco sighed. 'Give me a couple of weeks and you'll see.'

She shook her head. 'Out of the question. We will annul right away, and then we will figure out how to keep all those people from ever mentioning it to your father.'

'You know that's impossible.'

She curtly nodded. 'Quite the challenge, yes. Tell me, Draco - what did I ever do to deserve this?'

Feeling thoroughly aggravated, Draco replied, 'It had nothing to do with-'

'Your father and I sacrificed everything - _everything_ - for you, and this is how you repay us?'

'Would you trust me for once?' he almost shouted.

'Trust you? When you so underhandedly go and marry an inferior... I wouldn't even call her a witch... in our own _home_?'

'Well,' he said, straightening and closing his belt. 'You're just going to have to.'

His mother seemed to have realised this as well, because rather than hex him, she merely crossed her arms and said, 'Wait till your father comes home. He'll have something to say about this.'

Draco was sure he would. But that would fortunately not be something he'd have to deal with until _after_ his "honeymoon". And right now he couldn't wait to go.

* * *

Hermione rubbed her hands together to get some warmth in the chilly morning air and then checked her wrist watch. He wasn't quite late... yet. If he was late, would she be allowed - as his pseudo-wife - to chew him out? If so, that would be a rare perk.

Alas, it was not to be, because he arrived at that very moment, dashing all of her hopes of starting out their "marriage" as a shrew.

'Where did you go last night?' he began without as much as a hello.

'Home. Well, first to tell Harry about your mother, _then_ home.'

'On our wedding night? Don't you care what people think?'

She arched an eyebrow. 'I'm sure they think I didn't want to get hexed. Besides, I stayed around for long enough to realise that you weren't going to stand up to her and leave as well.'

He scowled at her. 'And where would I go?'

'You could find somewhere. If you had the backbone.' Didn't he just receive a fifth of his fortune back? Hermione might even have been inclined to offer him her sofa if he'd stood up to his mother, but no. He'd found it appropriate to let his mother throw his fake bride from the room for everyone to gossip about without even challenging it. Git.

He opened and then closed his mouth. Then he said, 'I'm not going to respond to that, because then the beginning of this honeymoon will become really unpleasant.'

Hermione sweetly smiled. Perhaps she'd still get ample opportunity to be a shrew after all. Although, to be quite frank, she wasn't only doing this to be at odds. It had been oddly humiliating to have to go home last night, and she'd lost a lot of respect that she didn't even know she had for Malfoy for his inability to stand up to his parents on his pseudo-wedding night.

It had certainly cooled her down.

'So... we take the Portkey now?' he asked, looking away from her accusing glare.

'In about a half hour. Harry and Ron wanted to meet with us first. Secretly and all that, so if you could move it along without a fuss?'

He scowled at her, but entered the dilapidated building she indicated. They were right on the edge of London in some kind of old industrial district, so there really wasn't anything _but_ dilapidated buildings around. 'Ah, Potter. Just the bloke I love to not see. Weasley. Always a displeasure.' He sat down in a wobbly old, wooden chair. 'Lovely. Just lovely.'

Hermione closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. 'So, what's new, Harry?' she asked on a sigh.

'Nothing much,' Harry said. 'We'll go over any concerns there might be and, ah, brief you on some minor changes.'

Malfoy quickly looked up. 'Changes?'

'Very minor,' Harry assured him.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes in suspicion. 'How minor?'

Ron sniggered and it was a very unpleasant sound. He wasn't taking the whole wedding thing very well. 'As long as you can contain those _smoldering looks_ of yours and don't do anything rash, it should be fine,' he said.

'Ron!' Harry warned, alarming Hermione.

'What changes?' she quietly asked.

Harry sighed. 'Look, we had a man, but your wedding planner was far too competent and aware of every little detail. And you'd signed off on every duty. As the best man, I tried to influence her decisions, but no such luck. She had very detailed background information on everyone in this party.'

'Stop avoiding the issue!' Malfoy demanded. 'What man? What changes? You're making us nervous here!'

Harry ran his hand through his hair. 'The minister. I didn't succeed in getting our man to stand as your minister, so, ah...'

'You're married,' Ron curtly said. 'Congratulations.'

Hermione's whole world shattered around her and for a moment she could've sworn she was floating in a space filled with absolutely nothing. 'W-what?' she finally stammered. 'But you said that you'd take care of it. That it would be fake. That we wouldn't... that it...' The world was slowly returning, but it was spinning far too quickly for her to truly hold onto it.

'We can't be bloody married!' she heard Malfoy object. 'That was _not_ the deal!'

'Relax!' Harry cut in. 'Just... relax. It's not that big a deal. We've already drawn up the annulment papers. Our scheme is cause enough to make it all go away. After a short hearing, it will be like nothing happened, exactly like before.'

'Except it's not,' Hermione muttered, grabbing her head. 'We're married... I'm married to... that...'

'Stop!' Harry said in his most authoritative voice. 'Stop it right there! You are _not_ married. It was just a minor technical glitch. Marriage takes more than a certain kind of person saying a few words and signing a few papers.'

'Look on the bright side, Hermione,' Ron said, smiling nastily at Malfoy. 'If you want, you can now divorce him for a nice portion of what he owns.'

Malfoy blanched. 'I don't have...' He shot to his feet. 'You tricked me!' he accused Harry. 'I didn't take any legal precautions because I didn't think I'd _need_ to, and now you're out to scam me of my hard-earned money?'

'No one's out to-' Harry began, but this time Hermione interrupted.

'Please, you really think I want a divorce from you on file? All the riches in the land couldn't buy _that_.'

But the merciless truth remained. No matter what Harry said, no matter what she did, she was actually really married to Malfoy.

This was her first marriage.

She'd never wanted there to be a _first_ marriage. She'd wanted there to be only one marriage, which would last for life. Now this stupid thing, lasting a week or two, would forever taint that.

'It's not that bad,' Harry tried again.

She looked straight at him, her universe still spinning around them, but for some reason she could see just him clearly. 'That is not for you to decide, Harry,' she calmly said. 'I will do this thing, see it through, but afterwards I expect a paid leave of indeterminate length.'

'But-' he tried.

'-And if you can't get them to pay me, Harry, then you will do so yourself. For the duration. Understood?' Then she walked out.

Behind her she heard Malfoy say, 'Oh, and Potter? That will be an extra ten percent for me too. Thanks.'

* * *

At least there were no incidents with the Portkey. And when they were greeted by the staff of their hotel and brought to their suite, Granger smiled and nodded until they went away. Then she immediately adopted a scowl and began pacing.

'So where-' Draco began.

'Ten percent?' she rudely interrupted. '_Ten? Percent_?'

He winced. 'You thought that was pushing it?'

'Yes! You should've asked for twenty! Or forty! Or, better yet, a hundred and thirty seven!'

He glanced at her, not sure if she was being sarcastic. 'Um...'

'I can't believe how little it matters to you that we're married. We. Are. _Married_.'

'Oh, that.' He shrugged. 'I always kind of knew we would be.'

She stopped up and glared at him. 'How could you know? Nobody knew! I certainly didn't know! Did you do something?'

'No, no, easy.' He held up his hands to placate her. 'I only meant that I knew we'd act married and the fact that the piece of paper is legit doesn't really change much. It's a little more real now, but it's not that big of a deal.'

'Not that big of a deal? _Not that big of a deal_?' She shook her head violently. 'I don't want this, Malfoy. I really don't want this.' She sounded much more upset than he'd expect from someone as level-headed as her.

'I know,' he quietly said. 'But it is what it is, right? We just have to work from here.' And Potter had said that it was easily annulled, after all.

She nodded, making a suspicious swipe at her cheek that Draco chose to ignore. 'God,' she muttered. 'Can you imagine if your mother hadn't interrupted us? How difficult this mess could've become?'

'I hadn't thought of that,' he admitted. 'I don't think it would really matter, though. Sex as a deciding factor for rejection can only be important if virginity is a deciding factor for marriage and... well, it isn't.'

Granger didn't seem to take comfort in this. 'Who knows if that's true? There are lots of outdated laws lingering, not making sense! Have you ever had a marriage annulled before?'

He pursed his lips. There was no calming Granger through logic. 'Good point,' he said instead. 'In that case, I'm actually rather grateful to my mother. I should buy her flowers.'

'A gift basket,' Granger suggested.

'Ah, yes, with fine wine.'

'And her favourite... something.'

'She likes chocolate cherries.' His mother tried to hide it, but Draco certainly hadn't inherited his sweet tooth from strangers.

'Right. Dozens of those.'

'Ah, but not too many, because then she'll accuse me of trying to make her fat.'

Granger blinked and at last stopped her pacing, making Draco dizzy with the sudden lack of movement. 'Why would she do that?'

'My mother is an inexplicable creature. Do not ask me to try to explain her.' He was trying very hard not to laugh at the fact that someone else's lack of logic had seemed to jar Granger out of her own illogical fears.

'Fair enough.'

'But... Granger? I still have one question.'

'What would that be?'

He looked around at their luxurious surroundings, locating his bags at the other side of an open doorway into the most lavish bedroom he'd ever seen - and that was saying something. 'Where exactly are we, again?'

* * *

Hermione blinked. 'Why, we're in our hotel room.'

Malfoy pursed his lips. 'Clever. And where would our hotel be located?'

Belatedly, Hermione realised that they'd neglected to tell Malfoy exactly where their staged honeymoon would be, just to filter out all the noise. Harry had managed to leak the location well enough that anyone bent on murder would be able to pick up on it, but they'd thought it best to limit it so people concerned about Malfoy's poor match wouldn't randomly compromise the situation by showing up and trying to get him to leave her.

'Oh... um, Corfu.'

'Corfu?'

'Yes. Well, not the city, we're actually much closer to Ipsos and-'

'Why _Corfu_?'

Hermione shrugged, refusing to acknowledge the little pang of self-consciousness. 'It's a popular travelling destination and it has lots of interesting history plus a thriving wizarding community. It would make sense to go here.' Also, she'd always wanted to go to Greece, so this island with its reputation for discreet wizarding hotels had seemed like the perfect choice.

'I don't tan well.'

'Too bad!' she snapped. 'You can go to Antarctica on your next honeymoon!'

He looked at her for a long moment. 'You wanted to come here, didn't you?'

'Well, yes. As I told you-'

'No. You _wanted_ to come here.'

Again she felt self-conscious. Damn it. 'I figured that if there was time, I might go look at some ruins or visit their national museum. Greek history always fascinated me, and it's even more fascinating with a wizarding spin on it.'

He just kept looking at her. Why did he keep looking at her like that? Finally, he spoke. 'Did it ever occur to you that I might not want to spend my time here gawking at old bricks or other rubbish?'

She blinked. 'I didn't figure you'd join me. There's plenty of things for you to do, even if you dislike the beach.'

'Aren't you forgetting something?'

'What?'

'Um, the killer?'

'No, he'll find me. No use sitting around waiting for him. In fact, the less suspicious our behaviour is, the more likely he is to strike fast so we can go home.'

'That brings me to my second concern - we're supposed to be newly-wed and you think going off to look at old things by yourself isn't suspicious?'

'Well, I did some thinking. I pretended that this was real and we'd really for some unfathomable reason married each other, and I realised that I'd still want to do these things and you still wouldn't, so nothing would really change.'

'You're wrong,' he insisted. 'Something _would_ change!'

'Like what?'

'Like I'd bloody well go with you on your annoying trips, so I wish you'd have cleared it with me first!' he growled.

'I wouldn't want to drag a killjoy around with me, then I'd much rather go alone. And I'd tell you that up front.'

He rubbed the bridge of his nose before giving her the most aggravatingly annoying look. 'Look, if you actually want people to think I fancy you, you're going to have to listen to me. I would go with you, and I would try to make it a fun trip, even if I were bored out of my skull.'

'Why? You're not exactly the nice type.'

He made a face at her. 'Thanks. Put it down to me losing all mental capacity and becoming a complete idiot whenever I fancy a witch. I told you - I consider it a bother.'

'Right. I see how doing something kind for someone you care about could make you feel like that.'  
He scowled at her in response. 'So when are we going?'

'Oh, I thought I'd give us a day or two to get settled in first. Maybe I'll see if Harry has something new to report first.'

'Potter is here?'

'Not exactly.'

'So how do you talk to him? Do you owl him?'

'That's confidential,' she said. The less people knew how, the less risk of communication being blocked.

'You're just doing that to bother me.'

'Actually, no. But it's a bonus.'

'Of course.'

'But I suppose there is something you _should_ know - these rooms have been secured against eavesdropping and prying eyes, but outside, like I already told you, we'll always have an Auror and another Hit Wizard watching us. They think our union is real too, but are only sent here to try and keep us alive and of course catch the killer.'

'Won't that raise flags for the killer?'

'No. It makes sense that Harry would protect me. They do however have orders to make catching the killer their first priority and protection their second. Still, if you get in trouble, they'll be there.'

'Bloody useless if they can't keep an eye on the rooms.'

She pursed her lips, finding his complaining less than charming. 'That's actually the default for this hotel. Personally I like to have somewhere where I don't have to pretend to fancy you. But it would probably be best if you didn't spend too much time here without me.'

'Right.' He looked around their big, luxurious living room, apparently not taken with any of the plush, comfortable furniture. Then he seemingly noticed the big glass double doors out to the balcony and went to open them and step out to survey their surroundings. The balcony was, of course, facing the beach, but he only gave that a cursory glance, before he began examining what else he could see. It probably wasn't much. Maybe he could see the city Corfu across the bays if the weather was clear, and he could probably see the hills in the not that far distance if he looked to his left, but mostly there would be designated tourist traps.

'This little area is protected by a Muggle-Repelling Charm of sorts, and a slice of the beach is even reserved for the magically inclined, but if you want to see more of the island, there's a chance you'll have to mingle with Muggles. I've heard that young Muggles like to come to Ipsos to party.'

'Could you stop sounding like a textbook for five minutes, Granger? I'm just having a look.'

She flushed. So much for trying to be helpful. 'Speaking of textbooks,' she said, opening her small handbag. 'Here's one with more information on how and where to find the wizarding community on this island. They should for the most part speak English.'

'Lovely,' he said, coming back in and closing the doors behind him.

He didn't sound like he meant it.

Hermione felt her hackles rising. 'So where would you have gone on a honeymoon if not to a pretty, sunny island?' she asked, folding her arms.

He shrugged. 'It wouldn't really matter. I doubt we'd leave the bedroom.'

She couldn't really help but snort. 'Right. You have that kind of stamina.'

He arched an eyebrow. 'Was that a challenge?'

'No! That was me calling you on your dragon dung! Sooner or later you'd get bored or tired or sore, and you'd want to go to a nice restaurant, or the beach. _Or_ a museum filled with the treasures of yore and knowledge of the ages.'

He looked at her for a moment and then burst out laughing. She grew more and more annoyed with him until he finally stopped and then beamed at her. 'Point taken, Granger. But how about we hide out for a couple of days before we go to that museum of yours?'

She frowned. 'You don't even want to go to a restaurant? But I hear they have-'

'No newly-weds should go to a restaurant on the first day of their honeymoon,' he insisted. 'They should get food brought to their room and eat it in bed. In fact, if you insist, we could act out the details.'

She shot him a dark look. 'I see no pitcher with questionable liquid here, so you're out of luck.'

'Ah, pity,' he muttered. 'It would be fun.'

Not wanting to comment on Malfoy's idea of fun, she went in to the bedroom to get a book from her suitcase.

* * *

She'd brought books. On her honeymoon. True, it was a _sham_ honeymoon, but Draco very much suspected that made very little difference. Hermione Granger would bring books to her own funeral.

But at least it seemed like she'd agreed to lay low for a while. That was good. It soothed his ego a little bit. He didn't know what it was with Granger, but it was like she was completely oblivious to how people in love - or lust for that matter - were supposed to act. If they were to run around all day, every day, showing the same lack of tenderness as they had so far, no killer in their right mind would come forward. They'd assume this would end in a divorce after no more than a few months.

She'd curled up in a comfy armchair with her book and Draco had taken the time to investigate their suite. Thankfully, it wasn't red. The colour theme seemed to be more along the lines of gold and cream. He could live with that. Obviously, there was only one bedroom attached to the suite, but the bed in there was big enough that five people could sleep comfortably there without touching each other, so he figured that modesty would hardly be much of an issue.

The bathroom was as big and luxurious as expected, although he couldn't for the life of him figure out why they'd put a chair out there. He hardly found the bath a suitable place for lengthy conversations, unless both parties were _in_ it. And then there was the main room, with the big, cosy living arrangement that Granger was currently occupying.

At least he'd got something for his money. He'd gone behind Granger's back to get Potter to upgrade their reservation to whatever was the best currently available. He didn't really feel like pretending to be on honeymoon in a Ministry budget room. Potter had given him some trouble, talking about how the Ministry couldn't just accept his money like that, but eventually Draco had had his way. Leaving Granger in the dark about this only seemed reasonable. She'd make a fuss. Never mind that Draco had only just got a little bit of his money back after having had to watch every knut for too long, so he quite enjoyed the prospect of a luxurious hotel stay in a suite big enough that he didn't have to see Granger all day, even if they were both in it.

'I'm taking a bath!' he called to her. She made a non-committal sound back, too engrossed in her book to care what he was doing.

Ah, wedded bliss.

* * *

**Author's note:** Hey, sorry for the "almost" up there, but you did see the T-rating, right? ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note:** I rather like posting at this speed. :D I hope your inboxes are nice and unflooded.  


* * *

'So, what do you want for dinner?' Hermione asked Malfoy when she couldn't quite ignore her growling stomach any longer. She'd almost finished her book and he'd had time both for a lengthy bath and a nap. This almost felt like a real holiday.

'I don't know. I was considering food.'

'Clever.' Only not. 'If you could be a little more specific, we could order something.'

Malfoy went over to the small table containing the hotel's info, including their room service menu and looked it over. He quickly began frowning and wrinkling his nose at what he read. 'This doesn't even _resemble_ food,' he finally complained after a while.

'Pish posh,' Hermione snapped at him. 'It's perfectly good eating, and either you choose something, or I will.'

He looked up at her and then he slowly smiled. 'Is that so?' he asked. 'Well, be my guest.' He handed her the menu.

Great. Whatever she ordered, he'd hate it and make fun of her for ordering it. Besides, she didn't really have a clue what was on there either. In the end, she ordered a dish she'd been curious about for a while. _Stifado_. It was a stew, how bad could it be?

She tapped the item on the menu twice and a counter appeared next to the name. 'It should be here in ten minutes,' she said.

'Dishes already appeared,' he said, pointing towards the cosy for-two dining table that could easily be moved out onto the balcony.

'Will you go up in flames if the sun hits you?' she asked.

He gave an exaggerated sigh. '_Yes_, we can eat out on the balcony. Thanks for asking so politely. Did you remember to order some wine?'

She hadn't, but she quickly rectified that.

The view from their room was lovely, no matter how disparaging Malfoy acted. He might have been in places like this dozens of times, but Hermione really hadn't travelled much since... well, since before she went to Hogwarts. Her parents tended to invite her with them whenever they went somewhere, but she could rarely find the time, even though she often regretted that she hadn't the forethought to clear her schedule.

So now she was determined to enjoy the sun and the beach and the nature and the lovely rooms, in spite of effectively being killer bait and having to share her experiences with someone like Malfoy.

Malfoy had already opened the glass doors and moved out the table and the chairs by the time she was done staring at the timer, which wasn't going any faster just because she kept her eyes glued to it. A light breeze was coming in from the sea, but it was still balmy outside.

'What did you order for me?' he asked, as she came out to sit down across the table from him.

'The same thing I ordered for myself,' she replied.

'And that would be..?'

'The _Stifado_.'

'What, the stew?' He smirked. 'How romantic.'

'You don't have to eat it if you don't want it,' she primly replied. 'You can just go choose something _yourself_.'

'No, no, I'll eat it. A good husband always eats what his wife puts before him.' He was still smirking.

She didn't find it funny in the least to be reminded that she was currently _legally_ married to this rude, insensitive, nasty excuse for a wizard. 'Remind me to poison your food, then,' she said, counting the seconds until she could get her stew so she could eat it and go back to ignoring him.

His smirk faltered. 'Why do you always get so mad over so little?'

The question surprised her to no end. Wasn't he the one always being so negative about everything? 'I'm not _mad_, you're just... annoying.'

'I'm only teasing you. I'm sure the stew will be fine. And if it's not, then I'm sure the wine will wash it down. But, Granger... If we're to move among other people, you can't get mad at me all the time.'

'I'm not mad at you all the time!' she insisted.

'Yes, you are. And when you're not mad, you still act very distant, ignoring me most of the time. It's not that I don't understand why you don't like me, it's just that you should at least try harder to make people think you do. Can't you draw on how you've acted around others you've been with?'

Hermione stiffened. Like she'd acted with Ron? 'I've never been much of a touchy-feely person,' she said. 'I've never enjoyed touching or kissing in public.'

'You should at least smile more,' he said, looking at her oddly. Like she'd told him something that she was _very certain_ that she hadn't told him. 'Act more relaxed around me. Use this opportunity to have some fun and forget who we are for a few days.'

Have fun? She snorted. 'Right. I know your idea of fun.'

'I wouldn't be opposed to that. But you know that's not what I meant.'

'Fine. Can we go to the beach tomorrow, then?'

He got a pained expression on his face. 'Fine,' he said after a moment. 'In the afternoon. For an hour. And if I burn, you'll have to nurse me through it.'

She snorted, but at that moment their food appeared, and she forgot to reply.

* * *

Draco was really happy about the existence of beach parasols. His body liked to remain colourless. The only colour he had any hope of getting was _red_ and that really wasn't the most pleasant of experiences. Granger, on the other hand, had happily shed most of her clothing - a fact that he did _not_ lament - had asked him to apply some rather sticky sunscreen to her back - at which point he'd been glad that he was rather overdressed - and was now happily lying in the sand, reading.

Apparently, the bookworm liked the sun. Who would have known? He'd have thought she'd prefer musty, old, dark rooms filled with books.

'You're staring at me,' she said.

'I'm just admiring my handiwork,' he replied.

'You'd better not have missed a spot.'

'I'd never. Although, come to think of it, writing my name could've been fun.'

'Certainly! Until I found out and you found yourself castrated.'

He winced. Sometimes she had a way with words. 'What's the point of the beach if you aren't even going to go swim in the water?'

She gazed out at the sea. 'It's not that hot today. I'm guessing the water will be freezing.'

'So you'll just lie here, then?' he asked.

'Yes.'

'Coward.'

She snorted at him. Such an unfortunate habit of hers. 'I'll go take a dip, if you will.'

'You just want to see me burn.'

'You won't burn after five minutes in the water. Coward.'

'That's not very inventive, using my own insults against me.'

'You _are_ a coward. I know you're wearing swimming trunks. There were some laid out for you, but when we left they were gone.'

'Did anyone ever tell you that you're nosy, Granger?'

'Yes, all the time.'

'Just checking. All right.' He began stripping off his other garments.

She sat up, watching him with big, round eyes. 'We're really going to go in?'

'Yes. Wasn't that what you wanted?'

'No, frankly I wanted you to admit to being a coward, and then we could go back for tea.'

'Too late.' He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. 'We're making this quick,' he said and dragged her towards the water.

'No! No! Slow!' she objected, digging in her heels and trying to pull her hand free. 'Slow, Malfoy, to get used to the- eeep!' He'd begun walking into the water.

He stopped up, frowning down at his feet. 'Damn, this _is_ cold.'

'Uh-huh,' she said, finally managing to pull free from him. 'Let's say we're done dipping for the day.'

'Coward,' he said, wading - a little slower - further out.

She couldn't leave that insult dangling and followed him. She was wearing a relatively modest bikini, but it only took one glance for him to decide that it would be better and less embarrassing for everyone if he didn't look at the way her nipples obviously puckered from the cold under the thin fabric.

Maybe he should walk a little faster and concentrate on the freezing water.

His plan was quickly foiled. 'Wait!' she gasped, grabbing onto his arm and pressing her whole body against his side. 'Too fast. Too cold,' she stammered. The water was already at her waist.

Yes, he could feel her goose flesh and... more. With an effort he smirked at her. 'Want me to warm you?' He walked a few steps further so the water was now at _his_ waist. Better safe than sorry.

'Ugh, you're impossible,' she said, letting go of him.

'We're outside,' he reminded her. 'People that think we just married have been watching us ever since we left our room.'

'So?'

'So we've been married two days and haven't even kissed once today.'

'I told you, I'm not much for public displays.'

'Yet you strip down to nothing, have me put my hands on you, and then press against me. You couldn't be that naïve.'

'If you had sex regularly, you wouldn't respond like that, so maybe you're the one who needs to act better,' she primly pointed out.

He gaped. 'You did not just say that.'

'Say what?'

'Comment on my sex life!' The very idea that she'd thought about it was giving him ideas. Curse her.

'Oh. Well.' She had the decency to blush. 'I know you haven't been able to... lately... I mean... It doesn't matter! One should assume that we had sex last night and thus you wouldn't respond.'

'We could've had sex all night and I still would respond. Perhaps I'd even respond more. I'd certainly try to kiss you.'

She cocked her head. 'Why? You'd be sated.'

He blinked. There it was again. That cluelessness of hers. Maybe she and Weasley just functioned very much differently than Draco did. It was certainly possible, but he couldn't help but feel something was off.

'I'd be physically sated, yes, but those things would bring back memories, so even if I couldn't possibly manage to have sex again, I'd still want to kiss and touch. Did Weasley not want to be touched outside of the bedroom?'

Her blush deepened and she looked annoyed. 'I told you - I am the one who don't like public displays!'

'Outside of the bedroom isn't always public, Granger, and I thought we'd talked about you getting mad at me.'

She made a visible effort to look relaxed again. 'Don't bring Ron into this. He's always liked being touched et cetera.'

'All right,' Draco muttered, not quite able to figure this out. 'But, for the record, if you push against me again, I'm going to kiss you.'

She sighed irritably and then put her hands on his shoulders, pulled herself up, and gave him a peck on the lips. 'There, that should-'

He kissed her. She should have known that he would, and maybe she did, he wasn't entirely sure, but given the circumstances, he kind of had to. To prove his point.

He could taste the sea and the sun on her wet, slightly chapped lips. It was a surprisingly nice taste. As he gathered her closer, she wrapped her legs around his hips like she had done that day. The water didn't feel quite as cold any longer and he felt himself entertaining all sorts of possibilities. Why wouldn't he? She was soft and warm from lying in the sun, and she clung to him like he was some sort of anchor. When he let his hands wander below the water line, he found that her skin on her thigh was cool to the touch, but she was no less appealing or responsive. She couldn't fool him. She might not want to be touched in public, but she wanted to be _touched_. By him.

She broke the kiss, turning her head away. 'No...'

_Yes_! 'What if we go back?' he asked, his voice inexplicably hoarser.

'No, Malfoy.' She untangled herself from him and stepped away.

'Give me a reason I can understand.'

She shook her head. 'Someone who considers sex only to be "fun" wouldn't understand,' she said, and then she turned and went back.

He hated it when witches gave some sort of a weak dismissal that he "wouldn't understand" rather than a real reason. It was so aggravating. He vowed to make her either give him her reasons or admit that she didn't have any real objections.

And he hoped it would be the latter.

* * *

The peck had been a bad idea. A really, really, really bad idea. Of course Malfoy hadn't been happy with only that. He'd immediately demanded more and for some reason Hermione could no longer recall, she'd gone along with it.

She had to be careful. People made silly mistakes when they were on holiday on sunny, exotic islands, and she very much didn't want to make a mistake like that.

She'd been able to avoid him until dinner by taking a really long bath. He hadn't commented, but the way he'd looked at her after, somehow made her conscious of how she'd been naked in the bathroom for all this time and how he'd known that too. Silly.

During dinner they hadn't spoken much at all, but now it was probably inevitable. Unless she went to bed early. Now, there was a thought!

'Give me your reason, no matter what it is,' he suddenly said without preamble, as if he'd been holding it in to ambush her when she might think she was safe.

'I don't want a divorce,' she blurted out. Well, that was one good reason.

'What?' he asked, looking genuinely taken aback.

'Don't tell me you already forgot? If we sleep together, then they might think there's more to this marriage than we claimed and won't give us an annulment. Then we have to get a divorce.'

'Yeah, I know you said that, but they really can't be that antiquated. If they are, I have the best solicitors and could probably find another way out.'

'So you're basing it on _guesswork_?' she asked, aghast.

'Neither of us really know anything about these things, Granger, do we?'

'No.' She frowned. 'I want to go to the library.'

'You have a whole suitcase full of books, I doubt you need the library.'

'But I want to look this up!'

That seemed to catch his interest. 'Is it... an issue then?' he carefully asked.

'An issue? Of course it's an- oh! No, I don't mean like that, I mean...' She felt her face heat as she became more and more flustered. '_I mean_, I don't intend to have sex with you. I just want to know the rules of annulment.'

'Ah.' He looked a little disappointed. 'But if you find out that it's not an issue, then what is your objection?'

'Malfoy, your inability to take no for an answer is becoming annoying. Can't a witch ever just say no? I simply don't want to.'

'But that's the thing. You want to. We almost _did_!'

'I don't think you can hold me responsible to what I almost did when drugged.'

He ground his teeth. 'How about the way you kissed me today?'

'You talked about putting on a show, so I did!'

'A show? A- never mind. Fine. I'll pretend I believe it was a show and didn't notice that you responded to me. But, Granger? You'd better think of some better excuses for next time.' He stiffly turned and walked into the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind himself.

But so what if she'd become a little carried away and had responded to him? It didn't mean anything other than she'd been relaxed enough to find his kisses nice. She'd never been kissed in the water off the beach of some island paradise before. It had almost seemed like a fantasy at the time.

Sighing, she went out on the balcony, to look out over the moonlit bay. This was so far from home. It would be so easy to have a fling here. So easy... yet impossible. She couldn't throw everything away for a fling with someone like Malfoy, who was unpleasant, to say the least, and seemed to have a somewhat unhealthy relationship with his mother.

She leant her weight on the ornate wrought iron railing, carefully testing its strength, before leaning more fully on it to look down. Looking directly down always made her dizzy, but in later years she'd begun to learn to control it. She still wouldn't go near a broom, but she could at least look down from balconies.

'Granger!' she heard Malfoy bark from inside. She straightened a bit to turn to him, but suddenly, the railing gave way and she lost her balance. She managed to grab onto the bit that was still standing strong, but only barely.

It didn't matter, though, because it didn't take three seconds for Malfoy to haul her up. 'You idiot!' he scolded. 'How are you supposed to catch anyone if they have to clean up your brain matter because you thought it would be fun to take a dive.'

'Ow,' she muttered, a little dazed, wrenching her elbow free of his death grip. 'The railing was fine before I-' She stopped, her eyes widening and scrambled to her feet. The railing had been fine. Sturdy. _Whole_. But now, suddenly, there were cracks in the iron on both sides she'd been holding and the whole big clump of ornate pattern in the bit of railing that had come undone seemed almost melted.

'You think this was an attempt?' Malfoy asked in a hushed tone.

Her eyes narrowed in on him. 'What were you doing out here?' And why wasn't one of the people protecting them checking that she was ok? It was true that her safety was second priority to catching the killer, but still! Then again, maybe they'd seen Malfoy helping her and had assumed she would be fine.

He frowned. 'What?'

'You left in a huff only five minutes ago, and then you knew it was crumbling before I did?' It had been whole before. She knew it had.

'Just what are you accusing me of? I wanted to- no, never mind. Whatever. Have fun suspecting me.' Then he stormed back into the bedroom.

Sighing, she got to her feet. It was time to contact Harry.

* * *

Draco had a rubbish night's sleep. Granger didn't come in at all, even though she'd had no problem slipping into her own side the day before that. She was probably afraid that he'd kill her in her sleep. Yeah, he'd probably cuddle her to death or something. It was such a stupid suspicion. He'd only come back out because he'd wanted to get some misunderstandings out of the way. He'd certainly had a few ideas for ways to pass the time, but he hadn't meant half his suggestions to... mean what she'd thought they meant. He'd wanted to propose that they made some kind of truce, so they both could relax around each other. Then he'd seen her at that railing, seen how it had sagged and, apparently, calling out to her had been bad.

For one moment there, as it had looked like she was going to fall, he'd been genuinely scared. Whether it was an attempt to kill her by that killer or just a really shabby railing, he'd thought that she could get hurt. Up until now, he'd had some vague idea that when the killer _did_ target her, she'd immediately see it coming and just vanquish the bugger right away. Now... he wasn't so sure. What if she was distracted? Or sleeping? Or simply didn't see it coming? It wouldn't take much to forever extinguish the light in her eyes.

The thought made him queasy. The thought of murder always made him queasy. That was one of the many things that had him branded a coward. He couldn't extinguish anyone's light. Not even to save someone else's.

They should have picked Weasley for this. Weasley had some sort of latent inherent bravery that triggered whenever it was needed. Draco didn't. He only knew how to keep his head down and survive.

Slowly, he got up and got ready to face the day. And Granger. He really did need to straighten a few things out with her.

'I didn't do it,' he said as the first thing when he saw her. 'I don't care what you think of me, but it wasn't me. I don't have the guts to kill, remember?'

'Well, technically speaking, I didn't die,' she replied.

'I stopped trying to kill people years ago when I discovered I was rubbish at it,' he insisted.

Her lips quirked a little as if against her will. 'Oh, so _that_'s why you stopped?'

'Also, why would I do it? I've been turned down before without resorting to murder. And your survival is pretty much my meal ticket.'

She sniggered. 'All right, all right, Malfoy! I was perhaps a bit hasty.'

'Perhaps?'

'Ok, I was. But I think I was in shock. I'm sorry.'

'So you believe me, then?'

'Yes. Of course. You have alibis for several of the other murders and you're not _that_ much of an opportunist.'

'Ah, so good to know I'm trusted,' he wryly said. Really. Whilst it was good knowing that she didn't think he was out to murder her, she had actually considered his _alibis_. Couldn't she just tell that he wasn't a murderer?

'I told you, I'm not a fan of guesswork,' she replied.

'Trust isn't guesswork.'

'With you it is. We both know that under normal circumstances you very much dislike me, and we also know that even though you currently fancy sleeping with me, that's where it ends. Getting rid of me could sound good to you.'

'I don't fancy sleeping with you.'

For a second, she looked almost like he'd slapped her, but then her face was back to neutral and she said, 'Thank you for clearing that up, all evidence to the contrary.'

'I said that wrong,' he admitted, because of course he _fancied_ sleeping with her. 'I meant that I'll try to back off.'

She nodded. 'All right.'

'But I think we still need to kiss more.'

'Ah. Yes. But this isn't you trying to get into my knickers.'

'No. This is me trying to get some more heated snogging.'

She shot him an odd look. 'I can't tell if you're serious or not.'

'We need to look in love, and you reject every subtle attempt at flirting out of hand, so it has to be unsubtle,' he reasoned.

'I don't reject-'

'Yes, you do. Trust me.'

She seemed a little embarrassed. 'Must be habit. But, to be honest, it's quite impossible to know when you're trying to stage a newly-wed act and when you're teasing me.'

'Why does one scenario leave out the other scenario?'

'I don't like being teased.'

Neither did he, but he doubted they were thinking about the same kind of teasing. 'Then you'll have to figure out another way to make it look like you adore me.'

'I thought not killing you with my own bare hands did that,' she muttered.

'Funny.'

She shot him the sweetest smile. 'I think so. And here's the plan I've made for what I want to do the next few days. Library is today.' She handed him a schedule.

'You made a _schedule_ over our honeymoon?'

'We don't know when it'll be cut short, so I found it best to plan ahead and cram the most important things in first.'

He glanced at it. 'You want to trek through the hills? Do you have a death wish?'

'Relax. Our bodyguards will follow us and I'll be on my guard as well. It's to draw him out.'

'Right.'

'You can stay at home if you want.'

'And not get to tell you I told you so? Never.'

She snorted and got up. 'Oh, and after the library, I want to go to the beach again.'

'That's not on here.'

'Neither is eating or bathing, yet I still plan on doing those things as well.'

'Very funny.'

'So, are you coming?'

He sighed. 'Do I really have a choice?'

* * *

Hermione happily breathed in the atmosphere of the local wizarding library. It was lovely. It wasn't very big, but it was clean and organised and contained more books than she could have hoped for. When inside the inconspicuously small house that housed the library, she'd found that they'd taken the liberty to add some space upwards and it housed several extremely tall bookcases.

'Excellent,' she said rubbing her hands.

Malfoy looked far less pleased. 'I'm not sure they're going to loan you anything, what with the possibility of their book ending up in Britain.'

'Why would that matter since library books normally pop back into their place after a few weeks?' Hermione asked. 'Honestly, Malfoy, have you _ever_ used a library in your life?'

'Not after Hogwarts, no,' he said, moving up against one of the tall bookcases to let a stodgy old witch pass him with minimal body contact. 'If I need a book, I buy it.'

Hermione couldn't decide if she was pleased that he was supporting the book industry or put off that he didn't support libraries. Finally, she merely said, 'Well, I just need to look it up. Shouldn't need to take it home.'

'Did it, um, ever occur to you that their books might be in Greek?' he asked, pointing to a stand filled with books that did indeed seem to be in the aforementioned language.

She shot him a _look_. 'Tourist island,' she reminded him and went over to the librarian to ask for the English section.

'Still,' he insisted. 'Why would they have anything on British law?'

He was beginning to annoy her.

'I don't know that they do, but I can _check_, can't I?' she hissed at him, walking in the direction the librarian had pointed her. Honestly. You'd think he hadn't volunteered to come with her.

'How long do you think this will take?' he asked.

'That depends on how much you blabber! Why don't you just find a book and stay put and I'll tell you when I'm done?'

He scowled at her. 'You don't have to be so snippy.'

She didn't deign to answer that, but simply began looking for the information she wanted. But she soon found that of course he'd been right. The English section was limited and there wasn't anything about English wizarding laws. Damn it. She didn't want to lose face over this. Maybe they had an International Law section in Greek and the librarian - who'd fortunately seemed to have passable English skills - could help her? It was worth a try.

'Don't. Move!' she told Malfoy in her sternest voice. 'I'll be back in a moment!'

Her research had better back up Harry's consistent claim that getting an annulment would be easy, or she'd throw a fit.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note:** It's 2 o'clock in the morning and I'm making rolls for Kupo's daycare that are coming by in the morning. The little one turned 2 last Friday, you know. :) Yes, yes, no1curr.

* * *

Draco scowled as yet another local passed him by, giving him a knowing look. Granger had been pouring over various big, old books with the librarian since they got there and he was _bored_. Now she was just sitting there, staring at the book and chewing her lip. Great. The book was in Greek and she couldn't even read Greek! He'd got that much from what he'd understood of those whispered conversations. Why was she so anxious about getting that annulment anyway? Of course they would get it. They hadn't actually known they were really getting married when they made their vows and that in itself should be reason enough to not hold either of them to it. Besides, what did she have to lose? Nothing! She was simply insane.

'Is your curiosity sated yet?' he asked, getting her attention.

'Hm?' She looked up. 'No, not really. It's all so vague.'

'Vague is good. Vague means we just have to convince the Wizengamot, and I don't see why they'd want us to stay married. Especially with Potter to speak for us. Case closed.'

She frowned. 'I guess.'

'Do you always worry about things you can't help?'

She shrugged. 'I guess. I mean, I can't just ignore things and hope for the best, can I?'

He got up and went over to close her book. 'That's exactly what you're going to do. Don't worry. Nobody in their right mind would saddle you with me.'

She wrinkled her nose. 'But Harry did, didn't he?'

'I said nobody in their right mind. Potter is many things, but I'm not sure that mentally stable is one of them.'

'Great, and now you're making digs at my friends again. Lovely.'

He crossed his arms and leant against the desk. 'You already forgave him? I have to admit I'm disappointed. I thought you could carry a grudge better than that.'

'Yeah, well...' she muttered. 'I kind of had to. Ginny is pregnant and they already asked me to be the godmother. With an underhanded tactic like that, I had to forgive him.'

Draco pursed his lips, processing that. 'How did he tell you this?'

She blinked and looked away. 'Um... Owl, of course.'

'You didn't get any owls from Potter.'

'Yes, I did.'

'No, you didn't.'

'Yes, I did!'

'When?'

'Yesterday. While you were taking a bath.'

'How convenient.'

'No, not really. With the length of your baths, it's hard to _miss_.'

He narrowed his eyes at her. So many things didn't add up. He had no idea why she felt like she had to lie to him or evade him when it came to stupid things like how she was in contact with Potter or her past relationship with Weasley, but it was beginning to really piss him off. He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet, ignoring her indignant objections. 'Fine,' he muttered against the shell of her ear. 'I'll pretend that you aren't the worst liar I ever met. But now it's time for you to soothe my ego.'

'What?' she hissed back, wrenching her arm from his hand. 'You want me to tell you that you're a big manly man? We both know you aren't.'

He wasn't even sure what he'd done to piss _her_ off, but suddenly the witch was emanating pure poison. Even the way she looked at him was aimed to kill.

'I don't care about that,' he replied, backing her against the table. 'But this is a _small_ community and with you acting like you hate me, there's only one way to rectify matters.'

'I don't act like I-'

'Worst liar I ever met,' he reminded her.

She avoided his eyes. 'Thought you'd pretend I _wasn't_ that,' she muttered.

'I keep trying but it's hard when you keep reminding me.'

'Bloody hilarious.' She was actually pouting a little.

'I don't know what I did to make you mad this time, but I'm sorry,' he muttered.

That seemed to render her speechless, so he just bent down to give her a relatively innocent kiss. He meant to make it sweet and short, only enough to make whatever witches and wizards seeing them fighting believe that somewhere there was something else between them.

But then her mouth softened and opened to him. Her body pressed against his, and her arms went across his neck. He didn't quite understand why she did this; wasn't sure whether she really wanted to be kissed or whether she wanted a more elaborate pretence. In either case, he didn't want to stop, so he eagerly complied. Too eagerly; he was quite loath with himself for that. It must be this place, tampering with his mind, because quite honestly she was right to be so anxious to end their fake marriage. His lips didn't belong against her lips. They never had and they never would.

Suddenly there was a sound of splintering wood, and not a moment passed before he was propelled away from Granger as she had, without warning, violently shoved him off. He was completely unprepared and went without resistance, falling down on his arse just in time to see Granger getting hit by a torrent of falling books. For a moment he merely stared, unable to comprehend, but then he realised: One of the bookcases had somehow toppled over. It was too tall to actually fall and was instead resting against the opposite wall, but several shelves' worth of books and tomes had landed directly on Granger's head and she was now all but buried.

Mind frozen with shock, he scrambled to get her out from there.

* * *

'How long is she supposed to be gone like this? It's been hours!' It was Malfoy's voice coming from somewhere in the dark.

'Mr Malfoy.' It was a female voice, answering him. She sounded stern. 'Your wife took some fairly severe blows to her _head_. I'd say we're lucky she's still with us.'

'We? Who's _we_? You don't even know her. Can't you give her a potion to wake up?'

A long-suffering sigh. 'Time, Mr Malfoy. Time. Talk to her; that sometimes helps.'

'I don't know what to say.'

'She's your wife, isn't she?'

'Yes, but anything I have to say to her would probably shock you.'

'Nothing you can say at this point will shock me. Pretend I'm not even here.'

'Fine.' Hermione felt someone taking her hand. Her hand felt oddly heavy and disconnected. Her whole body felt like that. It was strange, because at the same time she felt weightless. 'Granger, wake up. You don't want to die married to me, do you? Just imagine that. Your tombstone would say Hermione Malfoy - because you actually signed away the name Granger, you know. You were so busy not caring about that, and now we can't put your name on your grave. And I don't think I can divorce you _after_ you die. So, you see, you need to wake up.'

They could put Granger on her grave if they wanted. There was no law against that! She wanted to open her mouth to say it, but it was too hard. Everything was too hard. It was easier to just... float.

'Ok,' the female said in a remarkably dry tone. 'That was a little bit odd. But I think she reacted. So keep going.'

'That was really the best I had. Except, Potter would probably name his brat after you if you died and it came out a girl. Imagine that. Hermione Potter, with the Weasley hair and Potter glasses. If it came out a boy, he'd probably call it Herman or something. And he or she'd always get teased for... well, that, but also for being named after someone who loved to be buried in books and died because she was quite literally buried in books. I'm beginning to feel like whoever did that has a good sense of irony.' He paused. 'Is this still good?'

'You're blabbering and quite offensive, but if your intent is to annoy your wife back to life, don't let me stop you.'

'That's all I'm good at.' Another pause. 'I still don't get why she shoved me away. I could've taken the brunt of it.'

'And would probably have been much worse off for it. From the state of the books, I'd say she managed to partially shield herself from the worst of it.'

'Why am I not surprised? She always was a swot. It figures she would try to learn wandless magic too.'

'You're really quite fascinating, Mr Malfoy. Your words say you couldn't care less, yet your actions...'

'Don't even go there,' he warned. 'I married her, didn't I? That should tell you all you need to know.'

'But most husbands would tell their wives they loved them when attempting to bring them back to consciousness. You, on the other hand, are trying to lure her back with talk of divorce.'

'If I told her any such thing, she would make a run straight for the other side. Besides, nobody likes unnecessary sap. You said she'd be fine.'

He was so good at pretending their union was real without actually lying about the nature of their relationship. She'd never considered him smooth before, but he certainly had a way with words.

'But you didn't believe me,' the female pointed out. She must be some kind of Mediwitch to have authority over Hermione's health.

'No, I did. She has to be fine. Because she can't die.'

'Like I said - fascinating.'

Hermione groaned. Why wouldn't the two of them _shut up_ so she could go back to sleep? This incessant yammering was giving her a headache. A rather large headache, actually. In fact, considering the nausea she felt when she tried to open her eyes, she'd say she had a migraine.

'Looks like she's waking up,' the female said.

'I told you she'd be fine,' Malfoy responded.

Prat. He'd probably been worried that he wouldn't get his money. And quite possibly the tombstone thing was an issue as well.

Hermione tried again to open her eyes, but the light was too bright and she had to quickly squeeze them shut.

'Welcome back, Mrs Malfoy,' the female voice said. 'Just take your time. It's quite common to feel sick. I have a few potions to help and I'd advise you to take it easy for a few days.'

Finally, Hermione succeeded in opening her eyes. Malfoy was sitting next to her whilst she was on some kind of bed, and the female was seated at a desk in the same small room.

'M-my handbag? Where's my handbag?' Hermione rasped.

Malfoy stared at her. 'Have you completely lost it? You could've died and you're worried about your _handbag_?'

'Don't scold her,' the witch said. 'Your handbag is right here, Mrs Malfoy. I'll just have a look at you and then your husband can take you back to your hotel room, ok? And don't be surprised if you get a visit from a couple of local Hit Wizards later. That bookcase shouldn't have been able to fall over.'

Hermione slowly nodded, accepting the bag and checking its contents. Everything was as it should be. When she closed it and looked up, Malfoy was watching her with narrowed eyes.

* * *

The potions perked Granger up some, but when they got back to the hotel, the first thing she wanted was a bath, and the second a nap. Draco didn't argue against either because both things sounded quite sensible to him. She brought her handbag with her when she bathed, but when she napped, he managed to get hold of it and was now unceremoniously going through its contents. There was nothing exciting in there at all. Lipstick, blush, a quill set - what a swot - a hand mirror, a pocket book with no exciting notes, her purse, and a tiny tin of mints. Heart-stopping. It was perfectly understandable that this would be the first thing she'd ask for. Only, rather not.

He'd been back to the library whilst she'd lain unconscious, and he'd found that the bookcase that had tipped over had been both bolted and _welded_ to the floor. Once the mess had been cleared enough for anyone to get a look at it, it was clear that the wood had been ripped apart near the base in a very unnatural manner. And Granger must've seen or heard it falling, because why else would she have shoved him aside at that precise moment?

But that was something else entirely. Why hadn't she _done_ something? Shoving him aside and taking the hit didn't count as doing something. Why wasn't she doing her job?

All these thoughts and more were going through his head when she finally emerged from the bedroom, yawning and rubbing her eyes.

'What's next?' he snapped at her.

She blinked a little sluggishly. 'I thought there was still time for the beach?' she said, stretching and wincing. The potions had helped the bruising a lot, but she was evidently still sore.

'The beach? The _beach_?' He stared at her. 'Why are you so passive? Weren't you supposed to _catch_ this... this _person_?'

'Oh...' She shook her head. 'I think you misunderstand. I'm an important part of catching him, but I'm not an active part. I'm bait.'

'What?'

'I'm bait,' she repeated. 'I get to have a holiday where someone tries to murder me, but I'm not supposed to go out of my way to hunt _him_ down. Harry's Auror and Hit Wizard are on that. Meantime, I just stay alive and make sure to stay in touch if there's a change of plans. It's fine, though. My training allows me to stay alive better than most, even if I have to be subtle about using it.'

He stared at her. 'How can you just do nothing?' he finally asked.

'See, this is one of the many, _many_ reasons I couldn't do this with Ron,' she said, very carefully sitting down on the couch. 'He'd go into a frenzy. You, on the other hand, are a good choice. You're not emotionally involved and you're good at staying _passive_, which is exactly what we need for this. Just stay calm and trust that I won't let them harm you.'

Again, he couldn't stop staring at her. She'd been buried under dozens of heavy tomes today. They hadn't been sure whether she'd been alive or dead when they'd dragged her out. She'd been passed out for hours. And now she preached... being passive? It was maddening!

'But how can you work with Potter's people if they don't even know we're faking it?' he hissed. Not to mention that he'd not seen anyone even remotely British-looking helping with digging her out from that pile of books.

'They know we know that we're under protection,' she said. 'That's enough. Don't look so upset. You'll get your money, even if I should fail at staying alive. And, by the way, you _can_ write Granger on my headstone.'

She'd heard that? And how cold exactly did she think he was? 'I'll have it say "Malfoy" just to spite you,' he warned.

She laughed at that. 'I doubt I'd care either way. Are you coming to the beach with me?'

'Sun's setting.'

'I don't care. I'll wear more clothes if I have to, but I want to go.'

Draco shook his head. Why did witches always have such nonsensical priorities?

* * *

Hermione drew her poncho closer around her. She should probably have worn a real cloak or a coat, but she wasn't going to let Malfoy know that. They were sitting in the sand, catching the last rays of the sun as it was setting. It would have been quite lovely if the wind hadn't been so cold and she didn't feel so beat up.

Already two attempts, and according to Harry, they had no clue who it was. They hadn't seen anyone suspicious, and the evidence hadn't pointed towards anyone in particular. They had to wait until the killer stopped trying to off her from afar and came after her in person.

That was so easy for him to say. He wasn't the one risking his life. He wasn't the one who'd got out of the bath and jumped at the flicker of his own image in the mirror from out of the corner of his eye. Malfoy would have loved to see that, she was sure. He'd have great fun at her expense if he realised just how frazzled her nerves were after what had happened. She'd thought the killer would try to make it look natural. She hadn't counted on him using spells to sabotage the balcony - which she couldn't get herself to use any longer, even if it was now repaired - or push over bookcases that shouldn't be possible to push over. The killer was trying to send a message by making her demise a dramatic one, it seemed.

'So what was your plan for tomorrow?' Malfoy asked, sounding calmer than he had all day, but still sounding angry. She wasn't sure why he was angry, but it must be the shock. After all, he'd almost been hit too.

'Forget the plan. I think I'm going to take a walk up the hills.'

He glared at her. 'That's your death wish talking, Granger.'

'I'll be fine by tomorrow. These bruises are-'

'If you go up there, they can just make it look like you fell and broke your neck!'

'Oh, but he won't want to. He'll want to make sure that everyone knows it wasn't natural.' And then, if she was lucky, she could draw him out and be done with it all. 'But let's talk about something else. Like, how I think you're getting a sunburn on your nose.'

He reluctantly grinned at that. 'We could also talk about how you're turning blue from the cold yet refuse to acknowledge it.'

She shook her head. 'No, don't talk about that. As long as we don't talk about it, I can ignore it.'

'I could warm you,' he offered.

'No, thank you.'

'You're so boring.'

That was one way to look at it. Personally, she just felt like cuddling with him under the stars was a really bad idea. 'Tell me why you and Pansy broke up,' she said instead. 'From how the two of you interact, that _has_ to be an interesting story.'

He grimaced. 'Nobody likes an ambush like that, Granger.'

'What? That wasn't an ambush!'

'Yes, it was.'

'Come on, it can't be that bad,' she prodded. 'Didn't you say you didn't tend to fall for witches or something? Was that what drove you apart?'

'Wrong. I said I didn't like it when I did, implying that I do and it's annoying.'

Hermione wrinkled her nose. 'Huh. I'll let you explain that one instead, then.'

'I guess that's marginally better,' he muttered and then sighed. 'I don't know. I was with Pansy all of my adolescent life and even a bit beyond that. When I messed that up-'

'How?'

'Not telling.'

'Why not?'

'Because it's bad.'

Hermione shrugged, unable to see the big issue. 'Meh. It takes two to run a relationship into the ground.'

'No. In this case it only took one and for the other one to have some self-respect. In any case - shut up. After I'd messed that up, I spent some time trying to get her back, but when I couldn't, I felt lost and sure that I'd never ever fall for another witch.'

'Aw, how cute,' Hermione couldn't help but tease.

He scowled at her. 'Could you leave off the sarcastic comments? It didn't take me long at all to find out that I was wrong and fall for another witch.'

'What was her name?'

'That really doesn't matter to this story. It took her a couple of weeks to get back with her ex, leaving me heartbroken for... I don't know. Not long. Until I saw the _next_ witch.'

'And let me guess, she left you too?'

'No, I think I bored of her after about a month, maybe two. And then there was another witch. And another. At some point I decided that I needed to get better at staying involved longer, and I did, but that didn't really change the sequence of events and eventually I got sick of doing the same dance over and over and stopped bothering. But then I met this beautiful, clever, kind witch, who I didn't actually fall in love with but could see myself growing old with, and asked her to marry me.'

'And she said yes?'

'No.'

'Oh. I thought we'd reached your engagement.'

'Well, we have. Except, she was not at all certain we'd make a good match and I did everything in my power to convince her and eventually she was somewhat convinced and we got engaged.'

'And then she stopped being convinced.'

'Quite.'

He didn't really seem that interested in elaborating, but Hermione wasn't one for reining in her curiosity. 'Why?' she asked.

'I think I told you. She decided she wanted the whole in-love bit. I think she's actually engaged to someone else now.'

'Yes, but wasn't there some kind of thing triggering it?' she prodded. Somehow, finding out every detail seemed important right now.

'Not that I recall, really,' he said, extremely uninterested in sating her curiosity. 'She merely broke off our engagement over dinner one night and I was left without a fiancée.'

She gave up on that particular point. Who knew, maybe there really wasn't anything to tell. 'What then?'

'Not much, really. Now I'm sort of married to you for the time being.' He flashed her a cheeky grin.

'But you left out that whole part with the witch in France!' she objected.

'Ah. That. Well, my mother thinks I'm rubbish at finding and keeping a witch, so she asked if an arranged marriage was what I wanted. I said yes, as long as I liked the witch. So she started arranging.'

'Wow.' Hermione leant back on her elbows next to him. 'And you call me boring!'

He gaped at her, apparently not realising how boring his tale had been. 'Excuse me? Tell me how your love life's more exciting than mine!'

'I guess it's not. But it's not any _less_ exciting, that's for sure. You simply got sick of having feelings, just like that, and started pursuing an arranged marriage instead? Wow.' She shook her head. 'You could at least have made up some deeply tragic tale of woe for dramatic effect.'

He sighed and shot her a dark look. 'I guess there's a _little_ more to it.'

Of course there was. He really _was_ easy! 'Like what?'

'Like if someone were to map out most of my love life, they could pinpoint exactly when my ex fell in love, got engaged, got married and had a child, just by looking at whenever I did something mind-numbingly stupid. It's pathetic, really, how I always thought she'd marry me and her progressing with someone else made me react.'

'Huh.' Hermione stared up at the moon. She'd never even considered that Malfoy might still have a thing for Pansy Parkinson. 'You could marry her now,' she then said. 'I mean, after her divorce.'

'She doesn't want a divorce, and she wouldn't have me even if I asked. Believe me, that door is closed.'

'What exactly did you _do_?' she couldn't help but ask, even though the answer could hardly be something good.

'I can't tell you that, Granger.'

'Why? Are you afraid I'll think less of you?' she taunted.

He didn't reply, and after a while she looked over at him to find that he'd laid down on his back and was just staring up at the sky.

Realisation hit her. 'You _do_ think I'll think less of you!'

'Let it go, Granger,' he quietly said. 'I paid for my mistake.'

'Here, let me help you: You cheated on her, didn't you?' She'd said it casually enough, but she didn't really feel casual about it. Infidelity was something she had a hard time stomaching and she felt oddly disappointed that he'd probably cheated on Parkinson.

Again, he didn't reply.

'It's funny,' she said, trying to be neutral and fair. 'If you really tried to make up for it as hard as you did and you'd been together _years_, I don't see why Parkinson would be that inflexible. She obviously still likes you - in a friendly way, at least.'

'Would you forgive a cheater?' he asked. 'Or would you walk away, never to return?'

'It would depend a lot on the circumstances,' she replied, although she knew she was fairly inflexible on that score herself.

'Say he was your first love. Say you'd been together for a decade. Say you wanted to wait until you were married to sleep together, but he gave in to the pressure of still being a virgin in his early twenties and-' He stopped and glanced at her, making her aware that she'd sharply inhaled a breath. 'Yeah, that's what I thought.'

'Prick,' she said, currently unable to say anything else.

'Yes, that's what I was thinking with.'

'Is that all you have to say for yourself?' And why was she surprised? This was _Draco Malfoy_. He probably thought he was entitled to be unfaithful to anyone he pleased.

'What do you want me to say for myself?' he shot back. 'She wanted to wait, so I'd been waiting. She wanted to get married first, so I'd proposed. But she still didn't want to get married straight away, so I _kept_ waiting. Everyone was always talking about sex like it was the greatest thing ever, and in a moment of weakness, I threw away everything that I had in order to try it. And you know what? It wasn't even good. I can't even begin to describe how lousy it was, and how crappy I felt after, and how badly it hurt to look her in the eye and know that she knew what I'd done.' He paused, but then proceeded more quietly, 'She wouldn't stop crying. Nothing I said could make her stop crying, and then she threw her ring in my face and screamed at me to get out, and she never forgave me. Even now, I don't think she's really forgiven me. So, please, Granger. Do enlighten me about what I've done wrong and tell me how to properly feel remorse for it.'

She looked away from him. She'd guessed that he'd cheated, so it made no sense that it would upset her when he admitted it, but... she couldn't think of a worse scenario. His fiancée had wanted them to wait with their very first time, to make it special, to make it a rite of love, and instead he'd just... gone out and "thought with his prick", not caring one whit about Parkinson's feelings, no matter what he said. If he'd cared, he wouldn't have done such a thing. He'd ruined Parkinson's dreams of the perfect, pure union, and had probably driven her off into the arms of the heartless git she'd then married. Being so disillusioned by someone you'd been with all your life was bound to lower your standards considerably.

'See,' Malfoy muttered. 'Now you won't even look at me.'

She shook her head. 'It's fine. We should go back inside.' She got to her feet and began walking without waiting for him.

What did she care, anyway? She didn't! She had no reason to care. She just felt sorry for Parkinson, that was all. Yeah, all of this upset was on Parkinson's behalf. No way did it have anything to do with herself.

But suddenly the night seemed a lot colder than it had only a few minutes ago.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note:** Ugh. Kitty needs moar than four hours of sleep. X_X  


* * *

Draco groaned to himself and followed Granger inside. He knew he shouldn't have told her. Granger didn't function on the same level as mere mortals. She didn't make mistakes like that, and she would never understand or forgive a weakness on this level in others. How did one _explain_ weakness to someone as idealistic as that?

He caught up with her just inside their suite. 'Hey,' he said, touching her elbow and flinching as she all but jumped out of reach. 'I didn't do anything to you, remember?'

She just shook her head and made to leave, but he grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to stay. 'I didn't do anything to you,' he repeated. 'And...' He swallowed. 'Maybe the fact that I did it to anyone is partially why I don't want that kind of relationship again. I'm an insensitive arsehole. I'd ruin the things that mattered and make someone cry. That's... not what I want. An arranged union is bound to be calmer, isn't it?'

She jerked free. 'Maybe if you'd learn to _think_,' she harshly said. 'Being faithful should be the _easy_ part of a relationship!'

For a moment he stared at her, not understanding why she got so upset over something that had nothing to do with her, but then he suddenly had a flash of inspiration. 'You've been cheated on.'

'Not like _that_!'

'But you have, correct?'

'So what if I have?'

'It still wasn't me who did it,' he pointed out perhaps a little too smugly.

'No, you would've done _worse_!' She shook her head and turned away from him.

He sighed. 'Tell me about what happened to you?'

'Why would I?'

'Because you teased and nagged me until I showed you mine and now you're mad at me for something I did to someone _else_ years ago. At least tell me your story.'

Granger shrugged and looked away. 'Fine. You want my story? We'd fought and weren't talking. Ginny convinced me that I needed to show him that I was fine without him to get him to appreciate me, so we planned for me to get all prettied up and go to this place he liked going to. I was running late because of work and when I got there, he was with someone else. The end.'

Draco blinked. 'With someone else... doing what?'

'What do you _think_ they were doing?'

'Well, I don't suppose you caught them having sex...'

'No! Although they might as well have been. They were kissing. Heatedly.'

'That's it? A kiss?' he asked, feeling quite boggled. Why would she react so strongly if this was the worst kind of cheating she'd endured?

'It was a lot for me,' she defensively said. 'I'd spent all this time thinking about him and being upset and he... well, he was already moving on.'

'No, he wasn't.'

'Excuse me?'

'Snogging someone? That's not necessarily moving on. That's just... acting out. Don't tell me you broke it off over that?'

'Why I do or do not break off my relationships is none of your concern!' She scowled at him in a very telling way.

'So you did, huh?'

'No! Well, yes. But no. Other reasons. And it seemed time to do it before he, you know, pulled a Malfoy!'

He pursed his lips, not quite able to tell if she was making fun of him or merely disparaging him. 'Technically, to "pull a Malfoy" you'd both have to be-'

'Stop it right there!' she forcefully said, cutting him off.

'What?'

'Just stop it right there! Don't talk or even _think_ any further!'

He did a double-take. No, that couldn't be! 'You can't seriously mean to say that you were-'

'I told you to stop!'

'But then you'd have to still be-'

'Malfoy!'

He stared at her. She seemed to find constantly interrupting him preferable to letting him finish any sentences about her sexual experience - or lack thereof. It really could only mean one thing. 'You're still a virgin, aren't you?'

'That is _none_ of your business, and I told you to stop it!'

'But it all adds up so well... What happened? You wanted to wait for marriage, but marriage never happened?'

'I'm not dead. Yet. Marriage could still happen.'

'But we almost-'

'Mistake!'

'Indeed! You didn't tell me and I was too far gone to notice anything... Bloody hell, Granger.' He shook his head. He'd never been with a virgin and from what he recalled from a few nights ago, he'd been so wrapped up in how good he had felt that he could have really hurt her.

'Oh, don't give me that. It's a hymen, not an exploding device. You can't accidentally trigger it and kill me. It certainly wouldn't have hurt you. At most, there would've been additional discomfort and a lot of remorse on my end the next day.'

'But what's with all the waiting?' he asked. 'It's really not... I mean... You're just going to get disappointed.' He was so shocked he was blabbering and didn't manage to stop himself before he'd already put his foot in his mouth.

She raised an eyebrow. 'Quite the sales pitch from someone otherwise eager to get into my knickers.'

In for a knut... he might as well go with it. 'I mean it, Granger,' he said. 'Sex is... can be... good. But very rarely the first time. Or even the first ten times. Why make such a big deal? Is it a religious thing?'

She narrowed her eyes at him. 'It's not about the sex. It's about wanting intimacy and closeness with that one special person. Why does there have to be any other reason than that? But maybe it's simply too idealistic and naïve. After all, men seem to be led by their genitals and thus incapable of staying true for any length of time unless you feed their... libido.'

'I don't think it's fair you judge my entire gender for something _I_ did. Years ago.'

'It's not just you! It's everywhere I look. It's bloody depressing. I feel like... like I've been lied to! I quit!'

'Quit what?' he asked, thoroughly confused, but what else was new?

'Believing.'

'In what? Marriage?'

'Yes! Among other things.'

'Relationships?'

'Most of them.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'Sex?'

'No, that's the ever-present power that the world will never get rid of. Our society as we know it is completely controlled by genitals, which, by the way, explains the current Minister of Magic!'

'Yet _you_ haven't had it,' he pointed out.

'Quit rubbing it in, Malfoy.'

He shrugged and pursed his lips to hide his beginning amusement. 'Hey, you know I'm always open to educating you a bit if that's what it takes.'

She snorted. 'After what you told me? Not on your life.'

He sighed exaggeratedly. 'I was afraid you'd say that. It's so unfair. I've never done anything like it since.'

'You've never cheated on another witch?' she asked.

He hesitated a little too long.

Her eyebrows shot up and her eyes widened. 'God, Malfoy, I never knew how disgusting you were!'

He flushed. Now he was suddenly disgusting? Because he was honest about not being perfect? 'Hey! You don't get to judge me based on a few messed up relationship decisions I've made! We can't all be bloody virgins, hiding from life and waiting for some mythical "right" person to come and swoop us up. People make mistakes. That's how they _learn_!'

'And pray tell, what did you learn, Malfoy? How to get a witch into bed more easily? How to be a better liar?'

'I didn't lie to you tonight and look at how rewarding that's been!'

'Why _would_ you lie to me? You realised I wasn't going to sleep with you, so why bother, right?'

'You almost did!'

'I. Was. Drugged!'

Draco realised they were shouting, so he lowered his voice a little before continuing, 'That's a handy little excuse you have there. Were you drugged at the library too? How about at the beach?'

'We weren't even close to having sex there!'

'Maybe not. But you were enjoying yourself; it was easy to tell. You didn't think I was disgusting then!'

'I'd forgotten what you were really like. Pretty islands sometimes have that effect on people.' She turned away as if dismissing him and it really annoyed him. How dare she act as if he was solely defined by some of his worst actions!

'What I'm _really_ like? You have no clue what I'm really like! You never cared to find out!'

'Then enlighten me, Malfoy. Tell me what you're really like.'

'I'm someone who at least _tries_.'

'Tries to do what?'

'Tries to do better!'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

Draco sighed. She didn't even care what he had to say, so why did he bother? 'You're not going to listen, so I'm not going to bother getting into details, but believe me, I try. All I want is my money and my freedom so I can go somewhere else and settle down and adopt some kind of really boring domestic routine and never _ever_ see you or your friends again. I can't even begin to tell you how much I'm looking forward to that!'

She opened her mouth but no sound came out, so she cleared her throat and tried again. 'Oh. Well. Then... Likewise! Hopefully we should be done tomorrow. Goodnight.' Then she turned on her heel and went straight to the bathroom.

Draco got the feeling it was something he'd said.

* * *

The next morning found Hermione pacing and biting her nails. She wasn't usually much of a nail-biter, but if there ever were an occasion, she thought today was it. Being out in the open with someone who wanted you dead nearby was never a comfortable scenario. Harry had assured her that her protection would be following her closely, but all it took was for one spell to hit her. One single wayward spell and her grave would say _Hermione Malfoy_, just because Malfoy would attempt to annoy her past death. He'd probably spend her funeral taunting her too. That was, if he'd even attend the funeral. Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd think his job was done and be off... domesticating.

How annoying.

She stopped pacing and stared over at where he sat, calmly reading today's paper.

'Are you coming to my funeral?' she asked.

He frowned and looked up. 'Dying now, Granger?'

'Maybe. I don't know. At some time I suppose I will be. But if it's any time soon, will you be at my funeral, or will you just be off wherever?'

He slowly folded the newspaper before he replied. 'I don't think I like how you're already sending invites to your funeral.'

'You're evading the question!' She narrowed her eyes at him. 'You're not coming, are you? You'd ignore my death!'

'I hardly think I'd be _ignoring_-'

She held up her hand, cutting him off, and began pacing again. She'd been right. He wouldn't come. They'd been posing as married in front of everyone who knew them and he'd had his tongue down her throat, but he couldn't be arsed to even go to her funeral. Perfect. Just... perfect. But what had she expected? He was Draco Malfoy! He'd demanded that she "upgraded" her looks in order to even _pretend_ to be interested in her! He was rude, obnoxious, shallow and... she didn't want him at her funeral! So there! If anything, it was good to be reminded that they weren't friends. Better to be reminded now than to feel betrayed later, right?

'So why all of a sudden so morbid?' he asked.

She didn't know. She really didn't know. All she knew was that her nerves were raw and she found the fact that he wouldn't even pay his last respects to her inexplicably upsetting. 'I'd go to your funeral,' she muttered.

'Well, you'd have to, wouldn't you?' he pointed out. 'I'd only die if you failed to protect me.'

And that would make his parents terribly upset, so she'd risk getting hexed for going! 'You can't come with me.'

'Well, of course not. I'd be dead.'

'No. Today. I'm going alone.' She grabbed her handbag and unzipped it, checking that she had everything, including her purse. She pointedly ignored how her hands shook. It was only healthy to be a little afraid when people were out to kill you. Never mind that she was in such an odd jumble that she had no clue where fear even factored into anything.

'You are not!'

'Well, no. Harry's people will follow me. But you can't come.'

'Because I wouldn't go to your funeral?'

'No! Because I don't want to go to yours! I can't... focus enough to protect both of us. I have to be alone.' This was, as far as she could tell herself, the truth.

'You really think this is it?' he asked, now a little more subdued.

'Yes.'

'And yet you expect me to stay here?'

'Yes.'

'What if the killer decides to come for me instead?'

She shook her head. 'He won't. It's me he wants.'

'How did you even know it was a _he_, again?' Malfoy asked.

She sighed. It was a fair question and, unfortunately, there was no good excuse to start a fight over it. Somehow she wanted to start a fight. That was a bad sign. 'A Hit Wizard saw him last time. Not clearly enough to see his face, but clearly enough to certainly know it was a man.'

'Last time... Oh, yes, you told me. They were protected but still ended up _dead_.'

She shook her head. 'No, the husband is fine.'

'I really doubt he is.'

'I meant physically. I didn't mean to imply anything else.'

'I really hate that it's one of the same people protecting us as them.'

Hermione frowned. 'What do you mean by that?'

'They failed.'

'They did the very best they could! They couldn't know the killer would lure the witch out where they couldn't get to her in time. And nobody would be able to lure me!'

He snorted. 'So defensive. Potter was another one of the protectors, wasn't he?'

Hermione really wished she knew what to do with her hands. 'No... but Ron was.'

Malfoy nodded. 'But he still failed.'

'Don't you think he knows that?' she exploded, venting her nerves at Malfoy even though she knew better. He was far from innocent anyway. And he could take it. 'He found the witch and he tried to save her. When backup arrived, he was completely covered in blood and she was cold, but he was still trying to save her. Something broke in him once it was made clear to him that he couldn't. He's been on sick leave for months and might never start up again because of it. Something in him simply couldn't cope with the fact that he was sent to protect someone and they still died horribly. He certainly doesn't need _you_ to tell him that he failed. Besides, he's not even on this case, so back off!'

Malfoy didn't respond for a while, but then he said, 'I'm sorry.'

She raised an eyebrow at him. 'You're what?'

'Sorry, Granger. You do know the meaning of that word, don't you?'

'Yes, I just didn't know you did too.'

He leant back in his chair. _So_ annoying. 'It sounds like he had a rough time of it. I've never been anyone's protector, but I can empathise with ugly failure.'

This was getting depressing. She didn't want to talk about Ron or blood and death. 'I need to go now. Alone!' she reiterated.

'Not on your life,' he said, getting to his feet and neatly putting his paper away. 'And I do mean that quite literally, it would seem.'

'No, it's on _your_ life. You'll get in the way and get killed. Not only will we have a corpse on our hands then, but we also won't have a set-up any longer.'

'So much affection, Granger, I almost can't take it. I'll be careful. I'll hide behind you like a proper wizard. Will that make you happy?'

'Why can't you just stay here?' she asked more quietly. 'It'll all be over soon.'

'Soon? There is no soon. I'd go insane waiting in these rooms. And don't forget - what if you're wrong and you come back and find me dead. Imagine the guilt!'

'Somehow, I think I'd learn to live with it.'

'Granger...'

She threw her hands up, feeling beyond exasperated. 'Fine! Whatever! But just so you know - if you die married to me, I'm inheriting all your things.'

'Fine by me! I'm dead, so I don't really care!'

'Your mother would be _so_ cross with you.'

'You don't need to sweeten the deal, Granger. I'm sold. Let's go!'

Hermione shook her head but then stopped to take a good look at him as a thought occurred. She slowly smiled. 'Oh, but there is one thing...'

* * *

Draco gave his mirror image a horrified stare. 'This is a joke, right?'

'No,' Granger said, barely suppressing a laugh whilst leaning against one side of the opening to the tiny fitting room of the shop. 'That's... Muggle.' She beamed at him.

He knew she was poking fun at him. He just knew it. 'This thing certainly won't cause _less_ attention!' he argued. 'I brought several non-robe items!'

'But you look so stuffy and out of place in all of them. No, you _need_ trainers, khaki shorts and a floral print short-sleeved shirt. Want red or blue?'

'I'm not a child! You can't limit my choice to colour!'

'Then you get red.'

'No! Wait! I... prefer blue,' he admitted.

She cackled all the way over to the register, causing him to indulge in a few violent fantasies. Unfortunately, violent fantasies weren't really as much fun when there was a good chance of her _actually_ being hurt. What a bother.

But at least she had to pay for the clothes, since he didn't happen to carry Muggle money around. Neither did she seem to, but apparently looking at some little plastic card was enough.

He'd wanted to use a wizarding shop, but no. Of course they weren't good enough. Bah. How could he _possibly_ have looked more ridiculously out of place before than he did now?

At least her mood seemed to have improved. All that talking about funerals... How was he supposed to have confidence in what they were doing when she did _that_? There was also the fact that he didn't deal that well with death. As far as issues went, he didn't feel that was the worst one he could have, but he supposed it only put him further in the coward category. A coward and a cheater.

He supposed that was why she'd avoided the bedroom again last night, even though he'd already proven that he could easily keep from harassing her if they slept on opposite sides of that huge bed. It annoyed him to no end that she was making silent statements like that. He hadn't actually changed the least bit since they got here! He was still the same as before, so the only reason for her disdain was that she'd got to know him better and that he hadn't pretended to be someone he wasn't.

Why did witches never want to know the truth? Didn't they realise that everyone was messed up in their own way, and if they found someone who wasn't, they'd only found someone who was actually lying about it?

'Are you ready?' Granger asked, returning her purse to her handbag as she came back towards him. 'Just leave the other clothes here. We can pick them up later. Maybe.'

He shrugged and followed her out. 'I suppose. I'm suspecting that you only want me to wear this to make a bigger target out of me, though.'

She flashed a smile at him. 'Nonsense. You're the same size. You're just a more _visible_ target!'

'Ah, yes. How come you don't have to wear ugly shirts?' He eyes her spaghetti-strap pastel summer dress. He liked Muggle fashion for women. Especially Muggle fashion for women in warm areas. Not to mention the Muggle beach fashion. He could spend many hours looking - and not just at Granger. The wizarding area was fairly deserted, but once you got to the Muggle areas... some of them didn't even wear tops! He'd asked Granger if she didn't feel like sunbathing topless too and had got his head smacked for his trouble. Too bad. It would've been fun.

'Because I don't,' she merely replied to his question. 'But if you'd prefer to wear a dress instead...'

'Right. Muggles look at men in dresses less oddly than they look at men in wizarding fashion. I believe that.'

'As you should!'

He glanced at her again. She was determined to take Muggle transportation north and then go for a walk in the lower hills in just her sundress and sandals and her ever-present handbag. She'd said she didn't intend to be hiking per se, and she didn't intend to be at it for too long, so she didn't need to wear more practical clothes or bring food.

She looked vulnerable. Very vulnerable.

He supposed that was how she wanted to look. He just didn't like it.

* * *

Hermione stood on the narrow road and looked up the hillside, pursing her lips. The area was a bit different than she'd thought, but she wasn't exactly sure what she'd expected. Something a bit more... isolated, she supposed. Not that this wasn't isolated - it was - but there was a _road_. And she certainly couldn't begin to climb either up or down without risking serious injury all on her own. Also, wandering aimlessly along the road seemed a bit stupid. There was nothing new to see. Just... more rocks around them and more sea on the horizon. Malfoy was standing quietly behind her until he heard a car and then quickly moved to stand beside her. He didn't seem to like cars much. Or buses.

'What now?' he asked.

She shrugged. 'There should be another village ahead.'

'So we walk there?' he asked.

'We aim for it at least.' If they were attacked before they reached the village, Hermione had every intention of Apparating back to the hotel.

Malfoy was squinting and looking around. 'I don't see anyone.'

'You shouldn't.'

'No, but... shouldn't Potter's people at least give _some_ sign?'

'Not really. It's better if they stay as hidden as humanly possible. Let's go; I want to eat today.' She began walking, ignoring that nagging, uneasy feeling that Malfoy was right. Harry's people should at least have given some kind of sign. But letting Malfoy know that there _was_ something to worry about didn't serve any purpose. He was a civilian and it was best to keep him calm.

'You could have brought food,' he muttered, but followed.

She could have. She'd even thought of it. But in the end she'd only brought a bottle of water, in case it got too hot. She didn't want to look like she'd planned this too much beyond getting to the next village.

'What if they leave you alone,' Malfoy quietly asked. Hermione appreciated that he was quiet, but really didn't think anyone could hear them out here.

'Then I'll think of something else,' she replied. 'I don't want to go back home empty-handed.'

He made to reply but then instead made a very annoyed sound. She looked back to see that his brand new Muggle trainers had come undone and he was staring at them as if it were a personal offence to him. Chuckling to herself, she left him to re-tie them, figuring he'd catch up. It really was funny how much he hated his new clothes.

Again, she squinted at her surroundings, even going as far as going to the edge of the road and looking down the slope. Everything was peaceful. She got nothing from being up here except massive boredom and the sense that this plan that had seemed so exotic and daring in her mind had taken her to a very mundane place - albeit a mundane place with a vista.

She turned back to Malfoy to tell him to hurry up, only to see him staring up above her. She followed his gaze at the same time he shouted at her to get out of the way and leapt towards her. She was already in the process of getting out of the way of the enormous rock that had decided to casually fall out of thin air, when he hit her and knocked her off balance, for a moment giving her a sense of hanging suspended in thin air as she saw the rock hit right next to where she'd been standing a few seconds earlier - before she heavily landed on him, but rather than rolling with his fall, he was sliding down the slope on his back with the weight of two, until he managed to sufficiently dig in his heels and they stopped.

A bit dazed, still unsure what had just happened, Hermione rolled off him.

'Ow,' he said.

She looked over at him to catch him wincing and then looked around to see if danger had followed. Again, she could see nothing, but she got out her wand just in case.

'You should have rolled,' she said.

He shook his head. 'It gets steeper down there. I prefer my neck unbroken.'

She looked down. 'Huh. I suppose neither of us is exactly Sonic the Hedgehog, so good call.'

'Sonic-the-who?'

'Hedgehog. When I was a kid my cousin had- never mind. Not important. Roll over.'

'No, thanks.'

'Don't be silly. Roll over and let me have a look. Emergency healing in the field was part of my training.'

'No... I really don't want to move right now. Maybe later.'

'Don't be such a baby!'

'Baby? I saved you from that thing!' he indignantly said, although he still didn't move.

'It wouldn't have hit me. Besides, you aren't supposed to save me from anything, remember?'

'How can you tell it wouldn't have hit you?'

'I saw where it landed. It wouldn't have hit. I suppose it can be difficult to aim large boulders at people's heads. Also, our killer has seen too many cartoons.'

'Seen too many what? Are you saying it's a Muggle?'

She sighed. 'No... just... move over!' She grabbed his arm and pulled, making him cry out and she dropped it again. 'Work with me, Malfoy!'

'I... don't... just a minute, all right, Granger?' He closed his eyes and for the first time she noticed how pale he'd become and it worried her a bit in spite of herself.

'Look, Malfoy,' she said. 'I'm sure it hurts a lot. Stings and burns. Your whole back is probably scraped raw. But if you insist on staying here, it'll only keep stinging and any cuts might get infected.'

'I know,' he said, wincing again. 'I'm just... trying to get a handle on everything. Especially my shoulder is on fire. I think that rock hit it as I was making an arse of myself, but I'm not actually sure. It all went so fast.'

'You didn't make an arse of yourself. For once. But you have to let me look. And, also, you're banned from coming along on any other attempts there might be to draw anyone out. But fortunately, this area is so deserted that it should be no problem for Harry's people to catch our perpetrator.'

Grunting, he finally slowly sat up. 'How bad is it?'

'Well...' Hermione muttered, looking over the damages. 'This shirt won't ever be worn again.'

'And what's the bad news?'

She tore some more at the already partially shredded shirt to let her see better. 'As I thought; mostly scrapes and bruises. A potion and some rest should help those.'

'Mostly?'

'Well...' She pushed away the cloth near his shoulder to reveal a bigger wound. Deeper too, because a sharp piece of rock was still firmly embedded in it and she didn't dare try to remove it for fear she'd accidentally sever some nerves, hit an artery, or dislodge splinters of bone. 'How bad does your shoulder hurt?'

'Like the devil.'

'Huh.' She bit her lip.

'What?'

'Can you move your arm?'

He moved his arm slightly then moaned and grimaced. 'I suppose.'

'I'll take that as a no.'

'What's wrong back there?' he asked, sounding worried.

'Well,' she said, getting to her feet and scanning the area around them. 'The good news is that we have magic.'

'And the bad?'

'I don't know that much about human anatomy. Only enough to be glad we have magic.'

'You said you could heal me!'

'Yeah, um... I'm not touching that.' She fully turned on the spot, still not seeing anyone and then called out, 'We could use some help here!'

Malfoy looked up at her. 'I'm actually hurt, aren't I?' he quietly asked.

She shrugged, going for carefree. 'You'll live.'

'Except you're looking worried. About _me_. And you just tried to contact the people you've completely ignored so far.'

'So maybe I'm a little nervous about nerve damage.' She frowned. 'Why the hell isn't anyone responding?'

Something was seriously off here.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note:** I hope those of you who have been to / are going to see DH have had / will have fun. :)  


* * *

Granger attempted to shout a few more times, but with no luck. Finally, Draco slowly got to his feet, jarring his arm and shoulder as little as humanly possible by keeping his arm close to his body.

Granger's head immediately jerked to face him and she narrowed her eyes at him. 'What do you think you're doing?'

'Getting to my feet,' he ground out through the pain.

'Don't!'

'They're not responding. They're obviously off somewhere, probably hunting your killer. You said we were second priority, didn't you?'

'Maybe...' she muttered, frowning at the sky. 'Still, you should take it easy.'

She didn't have to tell him twice to take it easy. Right now, he'd prefer to be in bed under the influence of some very powerful pain-relieving potions. 'Can't you Apparate us back?' he asked, noting that he was breaking out in a sweat from just... standing here. 'I think that local Mediwitch likes me...'

She frowned and chewed her lip. He doubted it was at the mention of the other witch, though. 'They should answer my call. No matter their priorities, they're here to _protect_ us, so why don't they respond when you're injured and I call them?'

She seemed to be going on in one track right now, but that really wasn't a track that Draco was interested in. 'Can't we discuss that when I'm in less pain?' he asked.

She nodded. 'You're right. Sorry. It's just that I can't take us all the way to the Mediwitch. We'll have to walk a little bit.'

'Then we'll walk.' It took everything he had in him not to despair and lie back down at the thought of even walking two steps.

She frowned again at that, but carefully grabbed his other hand and pulled his arm around her, tugging him along in her Apparition.

They appeared inland. Oddly, he'd thought they'd appear at the beach. They were just outside of town, and the houses looked so far, far away.

'They don't allow Apparitions within the wizarding area at all, and we couldn't be seen by Muggles,' she miserably explained. 'I'm sorry.'

'That'll teach me,' he said, attempting a smile before he began walking. The sooner they reached their destination, the sooner he'd be rid of the pain, not to mention the nausea that was setting in.

She wouldn't even have been hit. What a waste. And why had he even moved at all to begin with? Frankly, he felt like he deserved what he got for being so stupid. He wasn't some dumb hero. Granger was definitely a bad influence on him.

He felt her coming up against his good side and drawing his good arm around her neck. 'Lean on me,' she quietly said.

'My legs are fine,' he told her, unable to resist the temptation of leaning just a little. He was growing oddly tired and it was such a long way.

'Want some water?' she asked. 'I have water... Maybe I should've poured something on your wound. Or applied pressure. But how would I do that without-' She cut off, biting her lip again. 'I could attempt to close the wound, but I've never learnt how to deal with-' Once more, she cut off. 'You'd think it would be common sense what to do,' she muttered, 'but there's nothing common about it. My training was lacking. I'm issuing a formal complaint and will see to it that future Hit Wizards receive better training.'

He couldn't help but laugh. She was fretting about him in her usual swotty way, but he was - mostly - fine, he supposed. He merely didn't handle pain very well. He never had. 'Relax, Granger,' he muttered, a little sleepy by now. 'I'm fine. Or I will be once I get something for that pain.'

'Uh-huh. That's good to hear, Malfoy.' She dragged him along, trying to make him go faster.

'Don't call me Malfoy, that's my father's name and he's looking very put out with me right now for marrying you _and_ getting myself hurt. You should call me Draco. I like it when you whisper my name when we make love.' Thoughts were dancing around in his head, melding together in the most pleasant way. He must be sleepier than he'd thought. He stumbled and she caught him. She really shouldn't look so encumbered by his weight when he was in actuality floating.

'Who do you think I am, Malfoy?' she asked, looking so worried. It was nice that she was worried about him. Not that many people were. But that was because he didn't worry about them either. He worried about Granger, though, so it was nice she returned the favour.

'It's Draco...' he whispered. 'Don't be mad at me for being me. I don't know how to be anyone else. If I did, I'd try, but I think I'll always end up with me. That's the thing, you see. There's one person you can never ever escape. Mine just happens to be me. Yours is probably you. I bet you hate that swotty voice in your head at times, don't you? You'll think "it would be nice to go out and dance" and she'll tell you that you can't because you have so many things to do, so many people to save... and you never get to dance, do you?'

'I go out often enough,' she vaguely answered. 'So you do know who I am?'

'Of course I know. I like kissing you a lot.'

'I like kissing you too,' she said soothingly. 'If you make it through this like a good boy, I'll give you lots of kisses.'

That perked Draco up some. 'Promise?'

'Promise. But stay with me here - we never made love, so why did you say that?'

'Hm? Oh...' he frowned. 'A fantasy... I guess. I'm a little confused.'

'That's ok, Draco,' she quietly said. 'We're almost there. Just... stay alert, all right? We're almost there. Don't go into shock now.'

He nodded. 'I'm thirsty.'

'Here,' she dug out the bottle of water from her handbag and he drank deeply before handing it back to her.

'Thanks,' he mumbled. He was a little more comfortable now. His eyes were closing. He could really go for a nap.

'No!' she sharply said, shaking him and jarring him to open his eyes. Didn't she know his shoulder hurt? But then again, the pain was becoming a little fuzzy. 'Don't close your eyes,' she reprimanded. 'And move those big, clumsy feet of yours!'

She was angry with him? 'Don't be angry, Granger...' he muttered. 'I didn't mean to do it.'

'Why am I Granger if you want me to call you Draco?' She elbowed him when he didn't immediately answer her. 'A reply would be nice?'

'Why?' He found anything other than murmuring to be difficult and his brain was also fuzzy. 'I don't know... You've always been Granger. I've always been Draco, but you've always been Granger.'

'I see,' she softly replied. 'I suppose that under the circumstances, my given name might be a little long for you to say.'

Draco grinned to himself. 'You wonder about me whispering your name, Granger?'

'Not really.'

'Ah, so cruel. Disappointing a dying man.' He'd meant it as a joke, nothing else, but the look on her face was so stricken it gave him pause. It was just his shoulder, wasn't it? And they were mere minutes away from a Mediwitch? So why so serious?

He never figured out the answer to that, because his world was darkening, and no amount of shouting or shaking was going to keep the darkness from taking him this time.

* * *

'Is he dead?' Hermione asked, unable to stop staring at Malfoy. His shirt had been removed and his wound treated so now it looked all neat and pink, rather than nasty red and black with a _rock_ sticking out of it. It had looked that way for a good long while now. She wasn't even sure how long they'd been here, but it felt like several hours. And in all that time, Malfoy had barely moved or made a sound. It was disconcerting.

He was lying very, very still. She had to narrow her eyes and hold her own breath to see his chest - or rather back - slowly rising and falling. She'd physically check on him to be safe, but after she'd done that a few times after they'd first arrived, she'd been told in no uncertain terms to stop it.

The local Mediwitch - the same as last time; Hermione doubted they had more than the one - leant back in her chair and gave Hermione a very tired look. 'The two of you must have the most interesting fights, and you say this is only your honeymoon? What are the chances either of you will survive the first month?' When Hermione didn't respond but only gave her a blank stare, she relented and repeated for who knew what time, 'Relax. He'll be fine. I gave him something for the pain and a blood replenishing potion - well, as much as he would swallow of it, he might need more - and I didn't see any major damage. He's lucky the rock hit clean muscle. It'll hurt for a while, but no lasting damage.'

'I didn't do it,' Hermione said, somewhat belatedly responding to what may have been an attempt at humour. 'He fell. Or, rather, the dumb sod jumped.'

'I see.'

'I need to talk to Harry. But I can't just leave.' She wrung her hands. 'He's so still. Maybe I should've washed the wound. How do you compress wounds with embedded objects in them?'

'I told you he's fine. You got help right away and that's all that counts.'

'No, I didn't. I made him walk. I should've left him and fetched you, shouldn't I? I mean, before he passed out, obviously. But after, he was so easy to float, so-'

'Mrs Malfoy! I'm sure you did what you felt you had to do in the moment and it _worked_. Your husband will be awake and annoying you to death soon.'

Finally the message reached Hermione through her anxieties and she relaxed, giving the Mediwitch a weak smile. 'Good. I was afraid I'd be a widow.'

'You won't. Not just yet.'

'That's good. He wouldn't want me to inherit all his things.'

The Mediwitch stared at her and then shook her head and muttered, 'Such an odd couple. Accident-prone too.'

'Oh, this was no accident,' Hermione blurted before she could stop herself. The Mediwitch sharply looked at her and she had to finish the thought. 'I, um, mean, he jumped, didn't he? It didn't just happen.' She blushed, uncomfortable with the lying.

'I doubt he meant to get hurt, Mrs Malfoy.'

Hermione shrugged and looked away. If Malfoy hadn't meant to get hurt, then she really didn't know why he'd done it. He was anything but heroic and he didn't even know the meaning of the word self-sacrifice. 'I don't know _what_ he was thinking,' she muttered.

'Maybe,' Malfoy groaned from the sickbed making Hermione jump, 'I didn't want to be a widower just yet either. What would I even do with your subscription to _Saving the World Weekly_?'

* * *

Draco carefully used the arm that _didn't_ hurt to push himself up to a sitting position and then made a show of lazily yawning. 'What did I miss?'

'You're awake!' Granger exclaimed with a mix of relief and accusation that Draco didn't quite understand. Of course he was awake. Why wouldn't he be? She even went as far as to rushing over to him, only to stop mere inches away and crossing her arms, almost hugging herself.

'How are you feeling?' the Mediwitch asked before Draco could quite decipher this odd behaviour.

He pondered that question. 'Hungry,' he then said. 'And sleepy. And my back is sore and my shoulder hurts pretty badly.'

The Mediwitch nodded. How odd, he only just realised he hadn't bothered to remember her name. It had been something with far too many syllables, mentioned at an insane speed. He wished he could at least remember her first name, but he supposed he hadn't really paid attention last time and now he didn't want to ask for it again. 'Can you stand?' she asked.

Slowly, he attempted to get to his feet and even succeeded with a minimum of swaying. 'I'm fine,' he muttered, uncharacteristically keeping his mouth shut about the burning and stabbing in his shoulder because Granger was wide-eyed and pale and he was afraid she might burst into tears or something to that effect. He wouldn't know what to do if she did that. As it was, her hands were clasped so tightly he could see the white of her knuckles. 'Will you tell her that it was only my shoulder?' he asked the Mediwitch, nodding towards Granger.

'Actually, your wife is right to be worried. Shoulder wounds are woefully underrated. You could have bled out or have lost functions I couldn't restore. As it is, however, you're very lucky and should be fine with potions and rest for a week or two, although you might be sore for longer than that.'

He frowned. 'She was hit by a ton of books and is fine after a day, whereas I take a bit of a slide and need to take it easy for _two weeks_?'

'In all fairness, your wife should have taken it easy for a few days, but since none of the books decided to embed themselves in her flesh, she's still much better off than you. I need to examine you again and then you should be good to go.'

'Ah.' He frowned. So he could deduce that he'd been stabbed by something and that's why Granger had been so skittish. It wasn't that surprising, really. Not to mention that it served as a really good reminder why he wasn't a hero. Not that he had even done any good. 'Points for intent, eh, Granger?' he said, meaning to tease her and lighten the mood.

Granger glared at him. 'Intent to do what, exactly? You weren't supposed to do anything! What were you thinking?'

He sighed. Why did she have to be angry with him when he'd already received his punishment? 'No points, then? Figures.' He carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, supposing the lack of points meant she wasn't going to kiss it better. He shot her a woeful look that she deliberately ignored.

'I need to contact Harry,' she muttered. 'Can he walk back on his own or should I come pick him up later?'

'_He_ should be able to walk just fine,' Draco responded. 'I'm not a child, Granger.'

She nodded. 'Bye, then.' And then, just like that, she was gone.

'She actually left,' he muttered. 'Contacting bloody Potter couldn't wait a few minutes to see me better?'

'She's been here for hours. Worrying. No doubt she needs time alone now. Raise your arm.'

He grunted, both at the pain at raising his arm even a little bit and the notion that Granger should need time alone on account of him. 'If only you knew,' he said.

'Knew what? Now the good arm.'

He raised his good arm without any problems. 'If she's worried about me, it's only because she promised to protect me. And possibly because my mother would hunt her down if anything happened to me.'

'Your mother? I thought you were a grown man.'

'Aren't you Greek?'

'What does that have to do with anything?' She jabbed at a sore spot with unnecessary force, making him groan in a rather unmanly way. 'Stereotypes,' she angrily muttered. 'And this from some pale Brit who can't even keep his wife happy for a week. Mothers have their place - inside their sons' marriages is not it.'

'Ow! Ow, ow, ow!' He scrambled to his feet to get away from the mad Mediwitch. 'Do you really have to torture me to get your point across?'

'Yes. Your back is bruised, but as I thought, there's no serious injury apart from your shoulder wound.'

'You learnt that through torture?'

'No. I learnt that through the spell. The torture was to see how much pain you might be in. I'm giving you some potions. They'll make you sleepy, so maybe you should take them before bed. Oh, and no... hanky panky. Although I'm sure that won't be a problem.'

He scowled at her. 'It's my shoulder! I can use other parts just fine!'

'Can? Yes. Should? No. Too much strain on the healed wound and it'll break open again. And don't tell your wife since she'd only worry more, but there's also still a risk of infection. If it swells or you get a fever, I want you to come right down here again for additional treatment.'

'Oh, joy.'

'And you haven't even seen the sling I have for you yet!'

A sling! How lovely! At least then there was a chance that Granger would pity him enough not to shout at him when he got back to the hotel.

* * *

'It's not good enough!' Hermione hissed at Harry's reflection in her hand mirror. She was hiding out in the bathroom as usual whilst talking to him. It was another one of their countless precautions. 'Malfoy was hurt this time. Badly! And when I called for them to help us, neither of them showed. I'm starting to doubt they're even here!'

'So what are you saying?' Harry replied, looking tired. 'That my people are in on it? You _know_ Jenkins, and he wasn't even near any of the other cases, and Platke is, as you very well know, a witch and doesn't fit the profile.'

'You mean the profile based on only _her_ account of the killer?' Hermione shot back.

Harry frowned. 'What exactly are you saying? You know she was attacked the last time; her arms were slashed fairly badly.'

Hermione shook her head. 'That statement doesn't even add up.'

'What do you mean?'

'She said the killer had tried to hex the victim, right? And was disarmed, thus resorting to the knife, killing the victim with it and hurting Platke on his way out?'

'Yes?'

'They never found his wand!'

'He could have grabbed it before Platke got there. She did say she arrived too late to help.'

'Wouldn't he have hexed Platke, then, rather than slashed her?'

'I don't think you can expect anyone - especially mad murderers - to act logical in a time like that. He probably saw her get in his way and just lashed out.'

'So he leapt close enough to slash her with a knife, rather than hex her from a safe distance?'

Harry sighed. 'Hermione... I don't... I just don't know.'

'What _if_ someone had attempted to kill the witch and had been standing close to her because she'd thought them friendly, and when they drew their wand, she grabbed the knife and lashed out in self-defence before she was disarmed and murdered with her own weapon?'

'That's a very serious accusation, Hermione,' Harry muttered, but he was sounding more and more disconcerted.

'Platke is literally the only one to identify our killer as male! Isn't that convenient for her? And why is it that when I was falling off the balcony, there was no help. When I was buried in books, there was no help. I asked the Mediwitch and she said she'd only seen locals and Malfoy helping to get me out. And, finally, when Malfoy was seriously injured in the middle of nowhere and I _called_ for help, there was no answer! I'm worried about Jenkins, Harry. He wouldn't ignore me for so long. The killer already knows that we know we're being protected. Jenkins would have come to see how I was doing after my incidents and, if in any way possible, he'd have helped me with Malfoy earlier.'

Harry nodded. 'I agree this looks very bad. Add to that that I've only talked to Platke since you got there and neither of them checked in today...'

'That's another thing! I was forced to Disapparate from the hills with Malfoy and I haven't been back to the hotel until now. Shouldn't they be alarming you? Looking for us?'

'They should. And this is why I'm about to contact your local magical law enforcement for extra protection and will make arrangements for the first Portkey out of here myself.'

'I want to call this whole thing off,' Hermione said. 'If it's really Platke, then we have a deranged, trained, _experienced_ Hit Wizard hunting us and I can't guarantee Malfoy's safety any longer.'

'Just stay put,' Harry said. 'Someone should be guarding your door within the hour, and as long as you and Malfoy don't leave the hotel you should be fine. I'll contact you when I've found Platke and Jenkins and heard what they have to say.'

Hermione made a face. Staying put here with Malfoy. Yay. 'Just so you know, Malfoy wants another 10%.'

'It figures.'

'And I'm keeping everything the Ministry bought for me to wear for this case.'

'You know this is blackmail, right?'

'I'm living with Malfoy. What did you expect would come from that? Also, I'm keeping the engagement ring. I hope it's paid for.'

'I don't know if it is. You'd have to ask Malfoy. He's the one who supplied it. Both of the rings, actually.'

She gaped at Harry's image, a blush creeping into her cheeks. 'I'm sure that's unethical!'

'He's been very willing to help us save some money and, frankly, on our budget, it's been appreciated.'

'Bah.' She pouted. If the ring was Malfoy's, she couldn't keep it. It was a pity, because she'd actually grown to like it.

'But you'll stay put until we can sort this out?'

'Of course,' she muttered, ending the connection without saying goodbye. It was probably childish, but it made her feel marginally better. She didn't want to stay holed up in this hotel room and learn more about Malfoy's cheating, lying ways whilst remembering his lips on her.

She emerged from the bathroom to find that Malfoy had somehow found his way back without getting any additional injuries and was sat in an armchair. He wasn't wearing a shirt, only a sling and bandages over his wound. Not exactly something that improved her mood.

He glanced at her and sighed. 'I knew it.'

'Knew what?'

'You want to fight.'

'Do not.'

'Can't you just be flattered that I didn't want your skull crushed by a boulder and forget about the inconvenience?' he pleaded.

She blinked. Inconvenience? 'It's more than an inconvenience that I can't rely on you being safe any longer.'

He raised his good hand. 'I promise not to do it again. Learnt my lesson and everything.'

'I'm sure you did.'

'Right.' He got to his feet with what was evidently some effort and walked over to stand in front of her. 'I'm sorry I made you worry.'

She tried to look away without being too conspicuous, but he was blocking her view rather well. 'It's fine,' she muttered. 'You didn't mean to do that. You meant to help.'

'I don't know _what_ I meant to do, to be quite honest. I didn't think. I think nobody was more surprised than me that I did such a reckless thing.'

She shrugged. 'It's a common enough instinct.'

He gave a wry laugh. 'So now I have instincts? For what good it does anyone. You were fine to begin with and I just ended up in a position where I could've killed myself and possibly you too if you were too busy worrying about me to see a hex coming. Bloody brilliant. I can only hope you never tell anyone the details.'

Obviously, his ego was smarting a little. Hermione took a deep breath. He deserved something for his trouble. 'I... lied to you a little.'

He frowned at her. 'How so?'

'If I hadn't been quick enough to get out of the way - which I would have been - it wouldn't have missed me entirely.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'How not entirely?'

'It probably would have hurt, but wasn't likely to kill on impact. That's all I can say without actually having tried it.'

'So I saved you a little then?' He grinned.

'Is your ego happier now?'

'It's not exactly a Life Debt, but yes, I'll take what I can get!'

She rolled her eyes. That's what she got for opting to give him an ego boost to make him feel better. 'Always aiming to please,' she muttered, shaking her head.

'About that... isn't it customary to at least get a kiss when saving someone from harm? Isn't there a Rule of the Damsel or something?'

Kissing? She ignored the way her heart skipped a beat. It was ridiculous. 'I'm not in the habit of rewarding bad behaviour, and I am _not_ a damsel in distress!'

'I find rewarding bad behaviour to usually be very _mutually_ rewarding...'

'Malfoy...'

'Didn't I ask you to use my given name?'

She flushed a little. 'You remember that?'

'I hurt my shoulder, not my head. Of course I remember. I also remember that you made a promise.'

She flushed a deeper red, remembering. She'd only made that promise because she'd been trying to keep him awake and she'd thought he'd forget all of his own confused babble. 'That wasn't a promise meant to be kept!'

'You can't just say that whenever you make a promise you don't want to keep.'

'It's not that I don't want- I mean, that's not to say that I do... it's just terribly awkward and it serves no real purpose and-'

'Granger?' he interrupted.

'What?' She nervously chewed her lip.

'Are you seriously planning on making me jar my arm for this? Because it hurts when I do that. A lot.'

She couldn't help but snort a laugh. 'You'll use any means, won't you?'

'Yes.'

'All right, then,' she said. 'But only because I promised.'

He smiled at that and she had to tamp down an urge to try to wipe that smile off his face before she grabbed his good shoulder and stood on her toes to place a kiss on his lips. As he drew her closer with his good arm and his lips softened under hers, she marvelled at how easy he was to kiss. After they'd got their usual bickering out of the way and had begun the kiss, the rest always just seemed to... happen. At least when he wasn't groping her inappropriately in order to shock her or some other such nonsense. When there was no talking, no thinking, and no pranking, it was only lips against lips, feeling oddly nice.

Suddenly there was a loud growling sound and Malfoy broke away with a self-deprecating grin. 'Didn't eat all day,' he reminded her.

With a wry glance she took the hint and recovered the menu from its place on the side table. It wasn't like they could spend all day snogging anyway.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's note:** A shameless plug - remember to check out the Dramione Advent on LiveJournal this year. December 1st through 24th a treat in the form of a Christmas-y D/Hr oneshot from authors nominated by others to write will be posted. And yes, I was nominated, so one of them will be mine. I got an awesome prompt, so can't wait for it to be posted. :) I will update my profile to link to the community. Seeing the Light was my entry for last year's Dramione Advent, by the way. But this year I will exceed the word limit even more. Oops.

* * *

Draco awoke with a start from some kind of jumbled dream that he couldn't quite remember, only to find that the pain in his shoulder was nearly unbearable. Right. Potions must have worn off, then. And why was he sleeping on his back, anyway? He moved a bit to try and get more comfortable and discovered that his good side was weighed down by what he suspected was a very opinionated brunette. Interesting. A quick search of his memory didn't really yield any interesting results, though. True, they'd both gone to bed at the same time and, well, in the same place, but they'd been on separate sides of this vast thing this establishment called a bed, and they could've just as easily been in separate galaxies for all the intimacy there had been present at the time. For some reason, however, Granger had at some point - either awake or asleep, and he'd give a lot to know which - decided to traverse the space between them and snuggle up against him.

Normally, he wouldn't mind, but right now he was fairly at a loss for what to do. He was in a lot of pain and desperately wanted one of his potions. Getting up to get one would be most likely to wake Granger up, though, seeing as how he needed his good side, and chances were that when awake, she'd get embarrassed and go back to her own side. He didn't want that. He'd had a rough day and felt like he was entitled to some cuddles, even if he had to keep her unconscious to get them.

In the end, he unfortunately realised that he'd have to forego cuddles at this time, since the pain really was too intense for him to enjoy it anyway. Bloody inconvenient timing on Granger's part. Carefully, because he very much didn't need his shoulder to hurt any worse, he cradled her face and kissed her. Might as well wake her up in an interesting way. Amazingly - frustratingly - though, that didn't seem to wake her at all. Instead she merely moved in closer and tilted her head for easier access. Oh, the wasted possibilities.

What had he done to _deserve_ this? He'd really like to know since he couldn't make up his mind whether it had to be something extremely good or something awfully bad.

'Wake up,' he whispered, nudging her a little. She didn't respond. 'Wake up!' he tried a little louder.

'It's not morning yet,' she murmured, apparently refusing to give up sleep. He couldn't blame her. He was fairly tired himself.

'I need my potion, Granger, and you're on my good arm.'

Finally something seemed to register with her and she sat up, leaning on her palms and blinking at him, looking extremely confused. 'Then get your potion? Why are you on my side?'

He grinned and carefully sat up before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. 'Cute, Granger. But you're on my side.'

'That's ridiculous! I couldn't possibly be- oh.' He could almost hear her blush. 'How did that happen?'

So she must have been asleep then. Or she was bluffing. For all he knew, it could be the latter. She didn't seem very keen on admitting that she enjoyed their sessions.

'I don't know,' he truthfully replied after swallowing his potion. Ah, blessed pain relief. Well, in a moment, at least.

'I'm sorry,' she muttered, withdrawing to the middle of the bed. 'Is that why you need the potion now?'

He shrugged with his good shoulder. 'Doubt it. Although sleeping on my stomach might be the better option. I don't know why I didn't to begin with.'

'Oh, you did. But you were fairly restless until you turned onto your back.'

He raised an eyebrow at her. 'I see.'

She snorted. 'You see nothing. We were in the same _bed_, so of course I noticed.'

'I didn't actually mind you on my side, Granger.'

'I did! I do! We need... boundaries... and such.'

'Why?' He sat down on the bed. 'It's perfectly innocent. A few kisses and cuddles won't hurt anyone. I won't even try to have sex with you since the Mediwitch told me I couldn't.'

'You don't even remember her name, do you?'

'No. Do you?'

'I think her first name was Katarina.'

'Should I take this to mean that you don't want to talk about it?' He laid down on his stomach, turning his head to face her.

She swallowed. 'Kisses and... and cuddles can be... confusing. And people do so many silly things when they're off on holiday. I just want to limit my amount of silly things.'

The potion was beginning to really take effect and not only was the pain now bearable, but he was becoming increasingly sleepy. 'It's not that silly to want caresses,' he mumbled.

'No,' he heard her whisper, 'but I do find it exceedingly silly when I want them from you.'

He couldn't really think of a reply, and so he fell asleep instead.

* * *

Hermione was just finishing her breakfast when Malfoy finally made an appearance. She'd tip-toed out of the bedroom earlier, because she'd figured he could probably use the extra sleep. Also, she didn't know how long it would take for Harry to get in touch with her so they'd probably be spending more than enough time around each other as it was.

Especially after the embarrassment that had been last night.

He grimaced at her. 'We're going to need clean sheets.'

She raised an eyebrow at him, and he turned around to show her that he'd very clearly bled through his bandages.

'For crying out loud!' Hermione muttered, getting to her feet. 'Wasn't she supposed to have healed that?'

'I think if she hadn't, we'd see a lot more blood. But could you perhaps help me change this? I'd hate to have to go all the way down there for such a detail.'

Also, they weren't supposed to leave the rooms. So Hermione nodded and motioned for him to go to the bathroom where she followed and more than a little reluctantly began to remove his bandages in order to wash and redress them. At least there was already a chair out there.

'I'd rolled onto my back again,' he conversationally said. 'I don't know why I do that when the pain should tell me to stop. Maybe that's why I began bleeding; I don't know.'

Hermione shrugged. 'Maybe your body wants to get rid of something. Didn't she tell you what you could expect?'

'She told me not to strain it. And I don't think I have. She also told me to come see her if it swelled. Is it swollen?'

'No, no swelling,' Hermione muttered cringing and quickly covering up the wound after cleaning it. She wasn't exactly squeamish, but that didn't mean she enjoyed looking at flesh wounds, even after they'd been healed. 'I really do hope you quelled the urge to jump in and save random people in the future.'

'You're hardly random, Granger,' he replied.

She ducked her head as if to examine what she was doing, in order to hide the blush that he'd otherwise be able to clearly see in the mirror in front of him. 'Close enough,' she mumbled, hoping he'd leave it at that.

'No...' he said. 'Not really that close. Whether we like it or not, you're my wife and will remain so for at least a few more days.'

She cringed at the reminder. 'Now you're being technical.'

'Maybe so. But I thought about it and I think that's why I did it.'

Hermione smiled wryly. 'Then you're going to just _love_ it when I tell you this.'

'What?' The look he shot her in the mirror was wary.

'Remember when I looked things up at the library? Well, I found that there's usually a waiting period, even when the annulment is approved. We're not talking days of marriage; we're talking months. Congratulations, you have more time for self-discovery!' The very thought made her miserable. She didn't want to be reminded about this sham for months to come.

He stared at her. 'Even if Potter pulls some strings?'

She shrugged. She hadn't actually considered that. Maybe Harry _would_ be able to help! She hardly dared hoping, though. 'Maybe not. But unless you have a really good reason - like if you want to marry someone else right away - I wouldn't count on it. There, you're all set. Now go get dressed and put on your sling.'

He slowly stood and then left the room without further comment. She didn't blame him. It had been quite the shock for her too. She'd naïvely thought that once you were cleared to sign the annulment papers it would be over, as had he apparently. Still, she supposed it wouldn't really change anything. Their marriage was, after all, not in any way, shape or form real, nor had it ever been.

Not even last night.

* * *

Draco was irritably leafing through one of Granger's less annoying books. There wasn't much to do up here, and his injury made him vastly uncomfortable almost no matter how he attempted to sit - forget about lounging. She'd told him they had to wait for Potter to contact her. So he was waiting. The trouble was that he wasn't sleepy or hungry or in the mood to read, so there wasn't a whole lot left to do. Granger had no such problem since she was always in the mood to read. Swot.

He stared at her. She was curled up in an armchair with a book and didn't seem to sense his restlessness at all. She was idly playing with a lock of her own hair as her eyes were dancing across the pages at a speed Draco had rarely seen.

Coming to terms with the fact that they were married _right now_ was one thing - a marriage on paper didn't make a true marriage, after all. Not even if it did make him feel a little more protective - but coming to terms with the fact that they might be married for _months_ after they got back home was quite different. She'd go to her home and he'd go to his and they probably wouldn't communicate or even attempt to stay faithful. True, Granger was a virgin and probably not bound to go out and lose her virginity to someone random, but she might still go on dates. To him that felt plain awkward. He didn't like any wife of his - not even a sham wife - going on _dates_ whilst they were still married. But what was he supposed to do about it? Rent this suite for the duration of their marriage and bribe her to stay here? He doubted that would be a good idea on any level. Besides, he couldn't think of a bribe big enough to make her go along with it.

'Stop staring at me,' she said without looking up from her book.

'But I like to look at you,' he calmly replied, pleased to see her cheeks pinken.

'Codswallop,' she primly replied. 'You're bored, so now you've decided to toy with me.'

She was sort of right, but not entirely. 'Maybe. But I still like looking at you.'

She finally looked up. 'It's good to know that I've "upgraded" suitably for your tastes.'

'You even exceeded them,' he replied. 'Spectacularly so.'

'Would you give it a rest?' she snapped. 'I don't care if you're enjoying the result of several hours of mindless grooming. That has nothing to do with who I am and I find it exceedingly ridiculous that this is the way you measure a witch's worth!'

'Well...' he said, feeling a little blindsided, 'I would have commented on your sweet disposition, but-'

She slammed her book shut and got to her feet. 'I'm not in the mood for insults right now, Malfoy, so if you'll excuse me...'

'Hey!' He scrambled to his feet as well. 'All I did was call you pretty and then you turn it into something nasty!'

'With you it's _always_ something nasty! Unless of course this is yet another attempt to get into my knickers?'

He was well and truly baffled. Why were they fighting? Things had been so pleasant lately, so what just happened? 'Why so defensive? I wasn't trying to do anything you're accusing me of, I was merely thinking about being married to you!'

She looked away. 'That'll be rectified soon enough. No need to give it that much thought.'

'I was thinking that maybe it didn't have to,' he admitted.

Her eyes snapped back to him. 'What?'

He took a deep breath. 'I don't know... It could work, couldn't it?'

'Excuse me, but what marriage are you in?'

He'd prepared for her to turn him down, but her scorn actually kind of hurt. For a second he considered backing down, but then he decided he might as well push ahead and see if anything could come of it. Maybe she didn't realise that he meant it. 'Don't mock me, Granger,' he quietly said. 'I'm trying to be serious here. We get along when it matters. And much of the time we don't get along it's pure defensiveness. We wouldn't need that defensiveness if we were married, would we?'

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze. 'You're forgetting a few things, Malfoy.'

'Like what?' he asked.

'Like the real world. Like your family and your inability to stand up to them. If we stayed married, it would only end in _divorce_ instead. I don't want to start something that _I_ don't even think will work.'

'But would it have to? Is there a reason why we couldn't just annul it later if we really weren't suited?' He hid a cringe at his own words. Smooth suggestion, that. But he honestly hadn't considered ways _out_ of the marriage. Wouldn't that be counter-productive?

'What? In two years we suddenly pretend that none of it happened?' she predictably scoffed.

'Ok, maybe that wouldn't work,' he conceded.

'Look, Malfoy...' she said, sounding like she did her best to be patient. 'I appreciate the offer... I really do. But I don't think you thought it through.'

What, because he hadn't thought of ways to end it? But the whole point was that he didn't want that! 'The only thing you've mentioned so far that wouldn't work is my parents and, believe it or not, they don't actually run my life. They'd simply have to get over it. And you said it yourself that time! You thought my idea of having an arranged marriage had merit. I don't actually care about blood these days-'

'Of course you don't.'

He blinked. What? 'No, I really don't! Whatever I've said to you, I only said it to annoy you. You know very well that you always just assumed anyway and I'd say _anything_ to get those knickers of yours in a twist.'

'And it's a mere coincidence that you've only ever gone out with pure-blood witches before.'

'Not so much a coincidence as a philosophy of "might as well try to please my parents while I'm at it". I already told you all of this! Why do you insist on believing the worst about me?'

'Because you're insane! We could never be married! We just... couldn't.' She looked away.

'No, I'm right and you know it. We have a fairly strong attraction to each other - don't even try to deny that - and would mutually benefit from this.'

'How is fighting all the time "benefiting"?'

Draco didn't feel like they fought all the time, but he tried changing his tactics. Apparently, she didn't want to be married to him as a person, but maybe he could tempt her with something else. 'Well, you like to save the world, and I have the money that could make it happen.'

'Good grief.' She stared at him as if she actually found him insane.

'You have the good name that could help salvage mine.' He was beginning to agree that he was insane. Why couldn't he stop this? He didn't care about her name. He just wanted last night.

'Are you done yet?' she asked.

No, he wasn't. 'And we carry _none_ of the baggage that made our previous relationships impossible. I'm sure you won't find me suddenly becoming some kind of lovesick deadweight making unreasonable demands on your time.' He was sure he could do that.

She frowned and tilted her head. 'What are you talking about?'

'The thing you warned me about that had obviously happened with Weasley? Where one person fell in love whilst the other merely felt it was convenient and it all turned sour from there. We'll have boundaries. I know you like those.'

'I think you misunderstood my warning,' she quietly said.

'I did?'

'Yes.' She took a deep breath. 'For one thing, I was the one who fell, not Ron.'

'Oh.' He frowned. That was unexpected. 'You still in love with him, then?'

'That really doesn't matter. And it isn't a good example, anyway, because my relationship with Ron wasn't _supposed_ to be only convenient. It was supposed to be love. I was just too blinded by the fact that he wanted to be with me to truly realise the lack of depth of his feelings until it was too late. He didn't even acknowledge it himself. To this day he still claims I'm wrong about that bit, but I know what I lived.'

'You mean, you know _your_ end of it.' He carefully sat down again. That was it, then. He couldn't stay married to someone in love with someone else. That way lay disaster. And here he'd thought it had been such a good idea... How utterly disappointing. Not that she had seemed particularly inclined to accept him before, anyway. At least it soothed his ego somewhat that he wasn't only being rejected for being himself.

Granger looked down at her hands. 'Don't try to make me feel better by claiming that he did in fact love me, because then I don't know if I can ever believe he'll find happiness. I might've been on the needy side, but that didn't make it all right for him to ignore me every time something more interesting came up and basically take me for granted. At least if he wasn't truly in love with me, then there's a chance that we can both move on to happier relationships.'

'Or you could tell him what you told me and give him a chance to improve.' Draco was feeling a profound annoyance at being reduced to the role of relationship counsellor, telling his temporary wife how to get back together with her moronic ex. Marvellous. This wasn't exactly the position he'd been applying for.

'I told him countless times, Malfoy. He did his best, I really believe that. It just wasn't good enough, so I became more and more unhappy and with that more and more demanding, starting more and more fights. It was bad and I'm honestly glad it's over.'

'Hmh. But if that was so bad then what's so wrong about us?'

She held up her hand, pointing at the engagement ring he'd supplied the Ministry with. 'This is Pansy Parkinson's, isn't it?' she asked.

He was confused to say the least. 'What does that matter?'

'You kept this ring. For years. And when you told me about your relationship, the only reason you gave for not asking her again was that you thought she'd say no, and you openly acknowledged reacting every time she moved to a new phase of her life. _You_ are still in love with _her_, and I'm never becoming a part of that mess. Especially not as your wife.'

Draco shook his head. For someone not a fan of guesswork, she certainly jumped to a lot of conclusions. 'Look, I can give you another ring...'

'It's not about the ring, Malfoy.'

He hesitated, unsure what it was about then. 'I don't know what to tell you, Granger. I've been over Pansy for years.'

'That's not what it looks like to the casual observer.'

'Fine, believe whatever you want,' he grumbled. So he'd had a damn ring lying around. He'd forgotten all about it until Potter had mentioned needing one, yet somehow it symbolised his undying devotion to Pansy? Women!

'Now who's defensive? I actually think you could win her back. I'd even be willing to help you.' She carefully sat down on the edge of her seat and looked at him expectantly.

'How could _you_ help with that?' he incredulously asked. Had she missed _who_ he had proposed marriage to only a few minutes ago? How was this appropriate? 'And I don't even know where you get any of this from. I asked you to stay married to me and then... I don't even know where the conversation went.'

She looked down and he couldn't tell if she looked sad or embarrassed. 'Sorry.'

'Sorry implies that you'd change something if you could. Do you mean to say that you're changing your answer?'

'No, I don't see how...'

She didn't see how. Now that was a blow to his ego if ever there was one. 'Ok,' he muttered. 'This isn't awkward at all. I guess I'll go take a nap. Wake me if anything interesting happens.'

He should really stop asking witches to marry him. It never ended well.

* * *

After Malfoy had left the room, Hermione automatically opened her book to stare blindly at letters that made no sense. Never in a million years would she have thought that Malfoy would've asked her to stay married to him. A part of her had actually been tempted. They had chemistry and sometimes... sometimes being around him just felt nice. Like last night. When she'd found herself waking up curled up against him, she hadn't actually wanted to go back to her own lonely side of the bed. But she had anyway. Because she had to.

This proposal was flattering in many ways. It meant that he found her attractive and interesting enough to want to spend his life with her, even attempting to overcome certain social prejudices in the process. But it was simply too problematic. Whether he acknowledged it or not, he was still very sweet on his first love. Whilst she might be able to settle into a loveless marriage, Hermione honestly didn't think she could settle into a marriage where her husband would forever want someone else - not to mention that she didn't want to risk being the thing in the way of two people's happiness. Also, he might find it easy to talk about standing up to his parents, but she knew very well that he wouldn't find it easy to actually do so, and it would be a continuously humiliating experience for her to have to try to make nice with them, knowing how they really saw her.

But the biggest reason why she couldn't do this had nothing to do with him and everything to do with herself. She didn't know how or why it had happened and she wasn't really happy to admit it, but she seemed to be developing some sort of... feelings... for him. Not only would that make the other obstacles about a thousand times worse, but it would mean she would constantly have to watch what she did and said and guard her own reactions to what _he_ did and said, and in the end she would be lonely and miserable and much worse off than she would've been with Ron, who at the very least cared very deeply about her and valued her friendship.

Yet she'd almost wanted to say yes. Because romantic islands made her want to do silly things and believe in the best outcome even when she knew it wouldn't happen. They made her sneak over to the wrong side of the bed in the middle of the night just to see what it would be like. They made her like stupid, shallow flattery so much that she had to pick fights to keep her distance.

Irritably, she wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand.

She needed to go home and forget about all of this. She was very certain that under normal circumstances none of this would ever have happened, and she hoped that those bloody inconvenient feelings would fade quickly.

* * *

Draco did actually manage to fall asleep after a while and when he awoke, it was to the unpleasantness that was _Potter_, chatting with Hermione in their living room. Damn. He'd wanted to have another go at her about that whole marriage thing because her hypothesis about his feelings about Pansy was just plain stupid. Just because he'd been arse over elbow for Pansy once and had had problems letting go didn't mean that he still had feelings for her. It only meant that he had a past, same as everyone else.

'Look what the cat dragged in,' Potter drawled when he saw Draco's dishevelled appearance.

'Shut it,' Draco growled. 'I was stabbed by a rock and left to rot by your people, so I get to be untidy.' He sat down heavily. 'Did they catch the bugger, then?'

'Hermione is one of my people,' Potter pointed out, 'and as far as I can tell, she's been taking good care of you.'

Draco didn't reply to that, because he supposed she had and he couldn't seem to ever be allowed to say something nice about her without being chewed out. 'I take that to mean they didn't catch him.'

Potter shook his head. 'No. But we're almost a hundred percent sure we know who did it. She's on the run, but should be caught up to soon.'

'She? I thought you knew it was a wizard?' he looked at Granger, who was studiously avoiding his gaze and seemed content to let Potter explain matters.

'We did think it was a wizard, based on _her_ description. Hermione here was the first one to suspect something was off when we didn't see her partner at all after they arrived here. We found him in a state of the Living Death. He'll be fine, but I thought it odd, so I had some tests run on Ron, who was assigned as her partner last time, and it seems like she drugged them, fed them fake memories, and only woke them in time to stage finding the body.'

'And this isn't enough to make you completely sure she did it?' Draco incredulously asked.

Potter shrugged. 'Do this long enough, and you'll find that sometimes cases surprise you. I doubt this one will, though.'

'Brilliant. Do you know what made her do this? Some incredibly pathetic sob story, or maybe she's just a blood supremacist?'

'Actually, we don't know her story yet. She's half-blood, never been so much as engaged, and seemed to be quite vocally for equality.'

Draco sneered. 'In other words - simply a loon.'

'Pretty much.'

Granger looked up at Potter. 'Does this mean we can go home now, or do you want us to lay low here for a while?'

Potter shook his head. 'I doubt she'll be coming for you, although we'll certainly arrange for protection, but you can go home whenever you like. This suite is paid for until the end of the week, though.'

Granger got to her feet. 'No, I... think I want to go home.' Then, without another word, she went past Draco and into the bedroom.

'How about you?' Potter asked Draco.

Draco shrugged with his good shoulder, refusing to let his disappointment at Granger's decision show. 'I don't really have any reason to stay, so I'm going home too, I guess.'

Potter nodded. 'Fine. Do you need me to drop by and explain the situation to your family?'

Draco raised an eyebrow. 'To what effect exactly would that be?'

'I _am_ a Ministry official, Malfoy.'

'Uh-huh,' Draco said, nodding. 'You're also the opportunistic git who blackmailed their son into publicly wooing and marrying a Muggle-born. No, I think I'm good without you.'

'Suit yourself,' Potter said, getting up. 'I'll have a Portkey ready in one hour.'

Bloody marvellous. Draco turned to see Granger standing in the doorway to the bedroom, giving him an indecipherable look, but as soon as he opened his mouth to address her, she disappeared into the bathroom, firmly closing the door behind her.

No matter. There wasn't really time to talk now anyway.


	14. Chapter 14

It was with a weary sigh that Hermione unlocked the front door to the town house that she was proud to call her own. Well, mostly it belonged to Gringotts, but at least she owned a brick or two and maybe the sink. Speaking of the sink, she suddenly recalled being in a bit of a hurry and leaving dishes in it before she left for her "honeymoon". Lovely. Why couldn't she have magically disappearing dishes at home?

With a sigh, she left her bags inside the door and went into her sitting room, only to be reminded that she owned a phone to please her parents and the light of said phone was blinking red. She'd chosen the coward's way out and asked Harry to be the first to explain matters to them, but he couldn't already have done that, could he? Then again, why would her mother otherwise call her whilst she was supposedly on her honeymoon? Hesitantly, Hermione pushed the button, only to hear her mother's voice say, 'Honey? This is your mother. Please come by when you get back. Bye.'

Grand. They must know. Her mother _never_ called her honey or left short messages unless something was wrong. Last time it had happened, Hermione's grandmother had died.

Sighing even more heavily, she left the dishes in the sink and the bags in the hall and Apparated to the backyard of her childhood home. They'd early on found that to be the easiest way for her to visit her parents without having to appear too far away to avoid being spotted by other Muggles. Right now she wasn't really too happy that she had to land so close, but she might as well get it over with.

Briskly, she walked up to her parents' back door and knocked. It only took a few seconds for her mother to open and quietly let her in. Again, not a very good sign. Usually her mother wouldn't stop talking about everything and nothing.

Her father appeared in the door to the sitting room, took one look at her and then disappeared into the room. Hermione nervously glanced at her mother, who nudged her forward.

So it was her father who'd taken it the worst. Hermione wasn't exactly surprised. He was an easy-going, fun-loving man dedicated to his family, and Hermione hadn't doubted that he loved her for a single day of her life, but he did not tolerate lies and deception very well. He wouldn't think the ends justified the means for this.

Maybe she _should_ have opted to stay married to Malfoy.

Reluctantly, she entered the sitting room to find him briskly pacing the floor.

'Dad...' she began.

'Sit!' he commanded, pointing at the sofa.

She obeyed, and tried again. 'Dad, you really have to understand-'

'No!' he interrupted. 'You listen to me now, Hermione! We've always taught you to be proud of who and what you are and embrace that. But sometimes it's almost as if you're _too_ proud of it, thinking that being you makes it all right to do whatever you want to others!'

Shocked, Hermione tried to object. 'That's not true!'

'Isn't it?' he asked. 'Your mother and I decided to forgive what you did to us as a teenager because we thought you honestly feared for our lives and only wanted what was best for us and we _thought_ we'd made it clear to you why it was an extremely poor - not to mention dangerous - decision. Forgive, mind you, but not forget. Now you come here, claiming to love a man so much you have to marry him right away, so we open our hearts to this person, only to learn that none of it was ever true. Do you even understand this hurt, Hermione?'

'Yes,' she replied in a very small voice.

'See, I don't think you do,' he said, sternness never relenting. 'I don't think you understand how your mother sat up sewing your garter, dreaming of grandchildren, and how I spent days after the wedding bragging about what a brilliant chap I'd gained for a son-in-law only to learn that I hadn't. That he was some kind of... of actor or something.'

'No, not an actor.' Hermione was feeling close to tears, but there really wasn't much for her to do except sit there and take it. Her father was right, after all. She'd deceived them.

'I don't bloody care what he is, Hermione! All I know is that he is not your husband and you're not even involved with him, am I correct?'

She nodded, unable to speak.

'So here we are, feeling like _bloody idiots_ for believing our daughter when she tells us she's finally met someone. Is there anything you'd like to add to that?'

Hermione shrugged, looking down. They hadn't even caught the killer yet, so there wasn't really much else to add.

'You're our daughter and we love you. But if you ever do something like this ever again, don't bother showing your face around here any more.'

Hermione looked up in shock and her mother exclaimed, 'Thomas!'

'I mean it!' he gritted out. 'No more of this! We may not have magic, but that doesn't mean those that do can trick us any way they like and get away with it!'

'I'm sure Hermione only meant well,' her mother said, but Hermione noted the way she didn't come over and hug her but instead sat down in a chair across the room. Her father might be more vocal about his hurt, but the small things spoke volumes about how her mother felt, and it all made Hermione feel rotten to the core.

'His family didn't know the truth either,' Hermione quietly said. 'Neither did any of our friends. You weren't fooled because you weren't magical. You were fooled because... because we couldn't risk you knowing.'

'It hardly matters, does it?' her father bitterly said. 'Did you even know that lad?'

Hermione slowly nodded. 'We went to school together; we were classmates. Haven't seen him much the past few years before this, but I think we're friends... of sorts.' Her throat was knotting up in a strange way, making the last bit sound pitiful.

Her mother gave her a long look and then asked her father, 'Would you please go put on some tea, dear?'

He snorted but didn't object. Rather than put on tea, though, Hermione heard him leave the house.

'He'll calm down,' her mother said. 'He's just really disappointed. He very much liked your... um, that blond fellow.'

'I could've stayed married to him,' Hermione confessed. 'But...' She shrugged. She didn't know how to explain that she couldn't stay married to him anyway because she liked him.

Her mother shook her head. 'If he wasn't for you, then he wasn't for you. I just want you to be happy. Sometimes I worry that you will forget that you are a woman and not realise until it's too late. That's why I was so excited.'

'I haven't forgotten that I'm a woman.'

'That is good to hear,' her mother said, smiling vaguely. 'Who knows? Maybe I will have grandbabies yet.'

* * *

Draco leant back in his lounger and took a good swig of his Quintin Black. Ahh. This was the life. Or, at the very least, it was an improvement from his mother's constant jabs and censure. He loved his mother, but sometimes he really wished she would just go away. She was rarely so inclined, however, which was why he was now outside in the dark, drinking to her good health and his own sanity.

'Your mother said I could find you here,' Pansy's voice sounded behind him. He didn't bother looking her way.

'And she was right!' he instead said, toasting and drinking once more.

'I see.' He could feel her sitting down on the chair next to him. 'What are you doing?'

'Sunbathing!'

'For that you'd need sun,' she pointed out.

'You're right. But I don't actually like sunbathing. Starbathing, then? We have stars, don't we?'

'Maybe you'd be able to see that if you took off those dark glasses,' she calmly said, reaching over and removing them. 'Are you drunk?'

He took another swig, marvelling at how the world had suddenly become clearer. 'Maybe a little bit. Want some?' He held his glass out to her.

'No, and you probably had enough!' she said, taking the glass from him. 'Why are you drinking?'

'I was bored,' he said with a shrug of his good shoulder. His injury was better, but there was still pain. 'My mother was being a nuisance too, and she can't stand alcohol. It's actually a fairly good Mother Repellant around these parts.'

'You need to move out,' Pansy pointed out, moving the glass further out of his grasp when he made a grab for it.

'If I move, then they can't afford to live here either,' he said. 'It's my money keeping us afloat, not that they appreciate what I did to get it. I'm literally bound by duty, and nobody is happy or even grateful. So you see why I need my drink?' Not to mention that he was lonely. Three proposals to his name and not a single witch that actually cared to marry him. He felt so pathetic. Maybe he should lower his standards or something.

She shook her head. 'Your parents are not your problem, Draco. Let them have some of the money, but don't stay here with them.'

He flashed a grin at her, very effectively masking how he really felt. 'Should I go live with you, then?'

She shot him a disgusted look. 'Not on your life!'

'Thought so.' He sighed and shook his head. 'Nowhere to go.' He'd really wanted to have somewhere to go too, but obviously that hadn't been in the cards. All because Granger thought he still liked Pansy. He pursed his lips and eyed Pansy. 'Hypothetically, if I asked you to marry me again, would you accept?'

'No.' She delivered the rejection in a very calm and precise manner.

Draco mournfully shook his head. 'See, that's what I said! Why didn't that make a difference? And did she really think I wasn't over you after all this time? Maybe she didn't. Maybe it was an excuse.' Now there was an unpleasant albeit painfully realistic thought.

'I'd have to know what you're talking about to answer that, Draco.' Pansy was actually looking a little bored with him.

'Ah...' He squinted up at the stars, not sure how to say this without sounding completely stupid. 'I asked her to stay married to me. She claimed I'd rather be married to you.'

'Really?' she asked, raising her eyebrows. 'You wanted to stay married to Granger? I came over here to say "I told you so" because I read the true story of your marriage in Witch Weekly and realised I was right about it all being wrong.'

'It's not even in the Daily Prophet?'

She shrugged. 'Maybe. I prefer to read Witch Weekly. So, what's this about you wanting to be married to Granger?'

He shrugged. 'Seemed like a good idea at the time. I mean, we were already married, so why not make a go of it? But she didn't think so. She claimed I wanted you, just because I'd let them use your ring. How's that for flimsy excuses? She could've just said "No, I can't stand you!" - that would've made more sense, but no. She had to go and invent an issue.'

Although, when he thought about it, he was quite glad she hadn't told him she couldn't stand him to his face.

'My ring?' Pansy asked.

'Yeah. I was surprised you never even recognised it.'

'I didn't wear it long, Draco, and why on earth would I even pay attention to it? Why did you still have it?'

Typically female to focus on completely nonsensical details. He scowled. 'It was in some old box.'

'That's not really a good answer to _why_...'

He shrugged again. 'I don't even know any more. After a while I just forgot I had it. I only even recalled it because Potter mentioned needing a ring and I figured one ring would be as good as another.'

'I see,' she said.

Was he supposed to know what she meant by that? 'What do you see?'

'That you made her wear another woman's ring.'

Females! 'Why wouldn't I? It was a sham!'

Pansy delicately shrugged before sending him a smug look. 'Then don't be so surprised when she treats it as one!'

He pouted. Women and their logics. They were really only designed to drive a fellow bonkers. 'I did offer to get her another one!'

'It doesn't matter, Draco. You had her wearing my ring and she's going to attach meaning to that. You can't just conveniently replace the ring and go from there.'

He made a face. 'The whole _point_ was convenience!'

'Then I suggest you leave well enough alone.'

He pouted. Wasn't she his friend? 'You're not a whole lot of help here. Aren't you supposed to support me?'

'Well... no. You're acting like a spoiled prat, miffed that she didn't immediately recognise you as the greatest thing that could ever happen to a witch and, to be honest, I won't blame her if she feels like good riddance after all is said and done.'

The words hit home in a way that even surprised Draco himself. 'You think she feels like good riddance?' He hadn't been _that_ bad towards her, had he? It hadn't felt that way to him, at least. And if he had, then why had she responded to his kisses and blushed when he complimented her?

'I don't know, Draco. I don't know her that well and I don't know what happened between you. But you don't tend to come off as a very nice person and you were only gone with her a few days.'

With a sinking feeling, he acknowledged the truth. 'I suppose she would feel like good riddance. All I did was annoy her and try to get her to sleep with me. Of course she said no. I suppose it's only fair to let her have her annulment.'

Pansy shot him a baffled look. 'You were going to actively oppose it?'

'Not really... But I was going to talk to her first, try to persuade her. But why bother? Everyone knows it's a sham, anyway. I never had a shot.'

'That doesn't mean you can't still talk to her. Let her know how you feel.'

'How I feel?' He gazed up at the stars, hating how he hadn't had to time to get completely smashed before Pansy had arrived. 'I don't think how I feel matters. In fact, I'm fairly sure that I should leave it out of any discussion I have with her.'

'Why?'

'Do you honestly see her marrying me because I've developed feelings? No.' He shook his head. 'She knows how rubbish I am at love. And she won't have me for my money either.'

Pansy shot him an odd look. 'How would she know that?'

'Because I was dumb enough to tell her. She knows what I did to you. She called me disgusting. And I suppose she's right. Can I have my drink back now?' He really needed the precious dark liquid so he could block out all these thoughts.

Pansy hesitated a little. She never liked talking about what he'd done to her. Not that he could blame her. 'That was a very long time ago,' she finally said.

'Yes. But I don't think that matters to someone like Granger.' And why would it? It showed that he was capable of betraying the person he loved the most in the worst way. Why would she settle for someone like that?

'Why not?' Always with the questions. It was driving him insane.

_Because I'm simply not worth it!_ 'Because she's waiting for marriage and she made it very clear that she'd never trust me to be faithful. I really need my drink now.'

Finally she held the glass out to him and he grabbed it and swiftly emptied it. Some things were better buried under a sea of numbness.

'But why didn't you tell her that you've been waiting too ever since... since you found yourself complicating matters with sex.'

Oh, that was a nice way of putting what an arsehole he'd found himself becoming back then, driving any witch with the courage to come near him away with the most despicable behaviour he could come up with in the middle of his self-loathing. It had culminated when he'd heard that Pansy was expecting and had been unfaithful to his girlfriend with her best friend right where he knew he'd get caught. It had resulted in a nasty scene. After that, he'd decided he needed a break. That break was now going on five years, he supposed. No wonder he'd been so randy around Granger all the time.

'Because she wouldn't believe me,' he replied. 'I did want to sleep with _her_, after all.' She'd been so soft and pretty and he'd have had to be dead not to try, especially after those scenes they'd staged together. He missed being with a witch so badly and it had felt nice to have someone to kiss. Even if it was only for a sham.

'So? You were married, weren't you?' Pansy asked.

'You forget the sham part,' he reminded her. He sometimes forgot the sham part too. He had to constantly remind himself that it had only been a sham and nothing but a sham.

'Witch Weekly claims you have to go before the Wizengamot to get your annulment,' she said.

'So?' He got the feeling he should pay more attention to what Pansy was on about, because he wasn't following.

'So... that sounds fairly real to me.'

He shook his head. Pansy was just trying to put a nice spin on it, but he knew that Granger would never believe him if he told her that he hadn't physically been with another witch in years. And even if she did believe it, how did that change anything? He'd still done the same things and he was still who he was. 'Just forget it,' he muttered, pouring himself another glass of Quintin. 'I certainly plan to.'

* * *

She was finally alone. Finally, finally, finally. Hermione pulled at the neck of her robes and slid down the wall to sit on the floor in the deserted Ministry corridor. Nobody would be here today at this time, she knew. She just needed a moment to breathe before she went on her way.

She would never have thought that going before the Wizengamot, requesting an annulment, would be so difficult. It wasn't even that the procedure had been that taxing, or that the people involved had given her any difficulties to speak of. Harry had done most of the talking and there had been no objections, after all. But to stand there, under the scrutiny of all those people, feeling like they read her soul, with Malfoy standing quietly next to her, never treating the proceedings as anything but a routine.

It had made her inexplicably want to scream.

The Wizengamot hearing had been a mere formality at this stage, and Harry had even successfully requested they waive the waiting period, considering that neither of them had actually known what they had signed up for at the time, but had merely wanted to do some justice. It made sense, he'd argued, that neither of them would want this to interfere with their personal lives.

Then there had been the signing of documents that would dissolve the marriage. Her hands had been shaking, but she'd noticed that Malfoy's had been perfectly steady as he made the last flourish that ended their connection. After that, he'd just left a freer - and richer, since they'd released the last funds at the same opportunity - man without even looking at her, and she'd felt... alone. Lonely.

Harry and Ginny had asked her to come to dinner at their house but she couldn't tonight. She needed to be alone, to mourn the loss of a marriage that never was to a man that probably didn't exist. Normally, she'd let her friends console her, but in this case she couldn't even let them know that she was upset. Ron wouldn't even begin to understand, Harry would feel bad for putting her in this position, and Ginny... well, Ginny would feel even worse about one pitcher of lemonade placed in Draco's bedroom as a prank on the newlyweds.

At least one mystery had been solved with that revelation.

She needed to focus, though. Get this thing out of her system. The marriage-that-never-was was, no matter how she felt about it, over. Dissolved. She was once more Miss Granger, whose tombstone would not say Malfoy to annoy her. Somehow, she'd kept waiting for something to happen during the proceedings, for some reason why they would have to stay married to crop up. Obviously, it hadn't. Nobody had seen any reason for it to go on.

Nobody.

And it felt wrong.

Yet, who was she to complain? Malfoy had asked her to stay married to him and she'd said no. They hadn't even spoken once since then. This was the way it should be, the path she'd chosen for herself so she wouldn't end up miserable. True, she wasn't exactly happy right now, but... it could've been worse. She was better off this way.

Now she only had to believe that.

Slowly, she got to her feet. She couldn't stay here. She would go home and do her laundry, and then she would look at a few things for work. It would all be nice and normal, and before she knew it, she would lose this annoying fairy tale island bug.

She shuffled down the well-known halls, finding the exit on auto-pilot and then, once she was clear of the magic restricting Apparitions, she Apparated to just outside her town house. One of the perks of living in a magical neighbourhood was that she didn't need to hide her comings and goings. One of the downsides, of course, was the hell she'd had to go through to install her phone, but at least she'd got the landline to work, as opposed to her attempt with cell phones. Also, this way, her mother couldn't expect her to call back before she was able to check her messages. And somehow, Hermione could sometimes go for days without checking them.

Shaking her head and sternly telling her thoughts to stop wandering off like that, Hermione went up to her front door to unlock it so she could begin her planned glorious afternoon of laundry and work.

'Granger? Hermione Granger?' a female voice said behind her.

Hermione froze and turned around, her eyes darting around to take in the surroundings. Where were the people supposed to keep an eye on her home? She was getting more than a little sick of Ministry protection not working.

Platke was coming towards her, wand out but lowered. 'Granger? Do you recognise me?'

'What do you want?' Hermione bit out, mentally sorting out her options. Her wand was in a specially sewn pocket within reach, but fumbling for it might set Platke off. Right now she needed to stall and hope the people supposed to keep an eye on her noticed that Platke was here, presumably wanting to kill Hermione.

And here she hadn't exactly wanted to die today.

'So, you do, then?' Platke's wand went up a bit. 'Can we go inside?'

'Why?' Hermione asked. 'Have you something to say to me that can't be said out here?'

Platke vaguely smiled. 'You think I'm stupid, Granger? I know they're after me. Open up!'

Hermione had little choice but to obey.

'Give me your wand,' Platke said as soon as they were inside.

'No,' Hermione calmly replied.

Platke raised her eyebrows. 'Do you really think it is wise to refuse me right now?'

'No,' Hermione said, 'but I think it's even less wise to give you my only means of protection when you can only be here for one thing.'

Platke pursed her lips. 'But that's where you're wrong. I'm here to tell you I'm innocent! I've been set up!'

'Really?' Hermione asked, anything but convinced. It might help if Platke had bothered to look distraught rather than deviant. 'By who?'

'I'm not sure,' Platke said with a careless shrug. 'But you're smart. I'm sure you can come up with a theory!'

Yes, that Hermione could. The theory was that Platke was arrogant and deranged enough to think that Hermione would believe her innocence just because she made this move. 'If you're so innocent, then why so threatening?' she asked.

'Merely a precaution,' Platke said. 'I know you think I did it. But why would I?'

'Good question. Why would you?'

'I don't stand to gain anything. I'm half-blood, as I'm sure you know. My own dear old mother is Muggle-born.'

'Mother issues, then?' Hermione guessed. 'It's a bit of a cliché, but who hasn't got them?'

'Mother and I speak twice a week,' Platke coolly said. 'Ask anyone, they'll tell you.'

'And your father?'

'Dead. Natural causes.'

'Hmm. I don't know what to tell you, Platke. If you're innocent, turn yourself in and let Harry clear you.'

Platke bared her teeth. 'Potter isn't interested in clearing me! He just wants to pin me as his killer!'

'He's not going to charge you if you truly are innocent,' Hermione said, her hand slowly sneaking towards her wand pocket. She never knew what this lunatic might do, once she realised she couldn't talk Hermione into believing her.

'Isn't he? Then how come he has me running like some common criminal! I can't go home; I can't see anyone I know; I can't even bloody well walk down Diagon Alley!'

'It's because you ran,' Hermione said as soothingly as she possibly could under the circumstances. 'It looked suspicious. If you turn yourself in, he'll give you a fair chance to explain yourself.' Her hand moved another few millimeters.

'I ran because he was already hunting me. I heard him when he found Jenkins, ordering my arrest.'

'What happened to Jenkins?'

'You already know that. Are you trying to trap me? You're so _annoying_. You can't imagine how relieved I was to learn that Malfoy had been pretending all that time. You really don't deserve someone like him. Of course, jumping in to save you from that boulder was a little extreme under the circumstances, but everyone has their moments, right?'

Hermione raised an eyebrow. Such venom. 'How do you know about that?'

'I read it, of course.'

'The Daily Prophet didn't write that.'

'I read it in Witch Weekly.'

Since when was Witch Weekly more accurate than the Daily Prophet? 'Funny. We never actually mentioned the nature of Malfoy's injury to _anyone_,' Hermione said.

'So they embellished and struck true. Everyone could see he was injured.'

Hermione doubted it. Besides, they hadn't just withheld Malfoy's part in the whole ordeal - they'd cut out the whole incident and said he'd fallen or something to that effect. Platke must have been there that day to know what had happened. 'So, if you weren't our killer, then where were you?'

'Off on a wild goose chase, of course!'

Right. 'And it never once occurred to you to tell Harry that Jenkins was missing?'

'Jenkins has been known for his inability to pass a bar without getting smashed. I was merely trying to cover for him.'

Hermione shook her head. 'It's all a load of rubbish and you know it, Platke. Couldn't you at least have tried to come up with something better?'

Platke raised her wand another notch. 'Excuse me?'

'Jenkins hasn't had a drink in months, that's why he's back on active duty; and the only way you could know about Malfoy and the boulder was if you were _there_, so stop this nonsense already!'

'Oh, well. I actually prefer it this way, anyway.' Platke slowly smiled, looking nastier by the second. 'I really, really loathe you and your damn thick skull that simply refuses to crack.'

* * *

**Author's note:** Nearing the end here. One more chapter to go!


	15. Chapter 15

Hermione was beginning to feel a bit nervous, now that Platke was showing her true face. She did her very best to seem cool and brazen, though. 'Do feel free to start your evil monologue,' she said. I'm holding my breath as to why you were doing this at all.' At least if Platke was talking, she had a shot at getting out her wand and incapacitating her.

Platke sighed. 'What? So your hero can come here and save the day? Do you think I'm stupid?'

Hermione shook her head. 'No one is coming in the next five minutes.' Or the next ten or thirty or sixty minutes, either, but Platke didn't need to know that.

Platke smirked at that and gave Hermione a haughty once-over. 'It's killing you, isn't it?'

'Definitely.' Hermione's fingertips grazed her wand. So close.

Platke shrugged. 'I suppose you won't tell anybody.' Her lips curled into a sneer. 'My _mother_ is, as it turns out, not a Muggle-born. I learnt that at my father's death bed. My father had an affair. His wife, however, refused to let him go and threatened to take everything he owned from him if he tried. Most of his wealth had started with her, you see. And apparently her father was some kind of famous Muggle solicitor and she had him look into our laws and make threats. Then I happened with the witch he actually loved, and since my father's wife couldn't have children, she forced him to take me from my mother - which was quite easy, considering that she was from an old but poor family and couldn't afford to defend herself.'

'Your father sounds like a paragon.'

'My father was nothing but a captive in his own home. His bitch of a wife kept using Muggle ways to confuse and threaten him to stay with her. Besides, my birth mother soon enough died - alone - and then he saw no point in leaving any more.'

'So... because your step-mother is manipulative, all Muggle-born have to die?' Hermione was honestly a little disappointed that there hadn't been a better story behind it.

Platke's eyes got a dangerous gleam and she smiled with chilly satisfaction. '_Was_ manipulative, Granger. _Was_. But nobody needs to know that, do they? After all, her daughter, the Hit Wizard, has always claimed to speak to her twice a week.'

'You're disgusting,' Hermione said, wrinkling her nose and feeling her stomach rebel at the other woman's dark happiness. 'How can you even begin to justify yourself?'

'You're the one who does not belong here!' Platke hissed. 'You with your cars and telephones and other Muggle things. You think it's a coincidence that your technology doesn't work around magic? It's because you don't mesh! I see you visiting your parents and looking at their television set and what have you. You don't belong with us. Stay away from our wizards!'

Hermione's fingers closed around her wand. 'What if I don't want to?'

'You think anyone cares what you want?' Platke sneered, turning her otherwise fairly handsome face ugly. 'None of you ever give up your own world, instead you just contaminate ours. It's despicable!'

'As opposed to murdering innocent people.'

Platke snorted. 'None of you are innocent. You're all just opportunistic whores.'

Hermione raised an eyebrow. 'Don't hold back now.'

Again, a positively chilling smile spread across Platke's features. 'I won't. Avada-'

'Expelliarmus! Stupefy!' Hermione had squeezed her eyes shut and just yanked her wand out and shouted the spells whilst hoping for the best and dreading the worst. A while later, however, she slowly opened one eye to peek out and found that, no, she wasn't dead, and Platke was standing there, frozen with that hateful smile in place.

Hermione shuddered. That was one mean witch right there. She must be seriously ill as well to honestly believe that her story justified anyone die. 'Your father could just have left her,' she told the frozen witch as she, picked her wand up and pocketed it, just in case. 'If money was all that kept him there, then he was nothing but shallow and greedy. And telling you those things... You know, I wouldn't be surprised if his wife _was_ your mother, but your father was simply hateful enough to turn her daughter against her as the last thing he did!' Then she turned on her heel and left the house.

She'd better contact Harry right away so he could take her away and find out what happened to his people. Hopefully they weren't too hurt.

* * *

It was over. The Wizengamot hearing had gone without a hitch the day before and now Draco was living the life of the bachelor. Or something.

'I can't believe how fast you found a new place to live,' Pansy said.

Draco shrugged. He'd had to fill his time with something. 'It's amazing how quickly people will work for you if you pay them enough,' he said.

Pansy waltzed over to one of his more comfortable armchairs and sat down. 'Did you speak to Granger?'

'No.'

'But wasn't the hearing yesterday?'

'Yes. We're no longer married.' He sat down on the sofa opposite her.

The truth was that he'd wanted to speak to Granger, but she'd been surrounded by friends every single second she'd been near him and he hadn't been able to find it in himself to intrude. Why bother? She hadn't seemed interested in speaking to him. If anything, she'd only seemed eager to get everything over with. He'd even hesitated to sign his name, looking at her for any hint that he shouldn't, but he hadn't found any, so he'd complied.

'That went fast,' Pansy commented. 'Nothing like divorce proceedings. They take ages.'

Draco looked up. 'You changed your mind about getting a divorce?'

She shrugged lightly, looking away. 'He requested it. His girlfriend is pregnant, it would seem, and he wishes to marry her. I suppose that we should simply let him go. He'll never care about us again, and I can't keep watching my son's little heart break.'

'Want me to kick his arse?'

She snorted. 'Funny as that image might be, what would that achieve? No, let him have his new family. I merely hope for the sake of his new child that it will have strong magic.'

'What will you do now, then?' he asked, feeling bad that he was relieved to talk about someone else's problems.

'I don't know. I considered moving to the Muggle world with my son if it proves too difficult to stay here,' she said.

'You don't know the first thing about Muggles, Pansy. How would you survive there?'

She shrugged again. 'I'll figure it out. Don't worry about me.'

Don't worry about her? How could he not worry about her? 'And yet you'd refuse to marry me and make it easier on yourself to stay. Suddenly my ego is smarting much worse.'

She laughed. 'I can't keep relying on men, Draco. Besides, you don't want me any more than I want you.'

'I know.' He sighed deeply. 'But wouldn't it be nice if we did want each other?'

'No use thinking about that. I'm more interested in what you're going to do now.'

'About what?'

'About Granger.'

'What about Granger?'

'Are you going to ask her out?'

He raised an eyebrow. 'You're seriously suggesting I ask my ex-wife out?'

'I don't think she's technically your ex-wife when the marriage was _annulled_.'

He didn't care. He wasn't sure why, but he'd somehow decided to hang on to this reminder that they'd been married. 'I still can't ask her out.'

'Why not?'

'Because I already asked her to be married to me and she said no!'

'Maybe she said no because you'd never asked her out.'

'We went out both before and after the wedding.'

'But then you weren't going out because you wanted to, only to keep up some front. Seriously, Draco. What are you afraid of?'

'I'm not afraid.' He stared at his hands. No, he wasn't afraid. He was terrified.

'Don't lie to me.'

'So what if I began liking her a little bit?' he said without looking up. 'Have you forgotten who she is?'

'We aren't children any longer, Draco. It doesn't matter who she is, or what she is. And you forget how well I know you. You don't just like her a little bit and you're afraid that she won't want you.'

He didn't like this conversation at all. 'I don't want that kind of relationship anyway,' he said. 'I want a nice, calm arranged marriage where I can relax and not constantly have to feel... like... like that.'

'That's because you're a coward.'

He shot to his feet and began pacing. 'So what if I'm a coward? I've been in love before and I don't like it. I don't like _me_ when it happens! You remember how pathetic I was with you? I didn't get less pathetic over the years! And I already asked her if she'd mind staying married to me and she made it clear that she _would_, so I refuse to pursue it any further!'

Pansy was watching him with her cheek on her fist, looking exceptionally bored again. 'Oh, Draco, you moron,' she sighed. 'Have you really grown so vain that you can't pursue a witch you want any more?'

'If you'll recall, it's never worked for me anyway.'

'Sure it has. I might not have taken you back, but I forgave you and became your friend, all because you didn't hide behind your pride. And I'm quite sure I actually would've taken you back if I hadn't already fallen in love with someone else.'

He stopped pacing and stared at her. 'Really?'

'If you hadn't grovelled, then we wouldn't be here today.'

'But I don't want to be friends with her.'

'That's not my point, Draco. My point is that something good _did_ come out of it.'

'I'm tired, Pansy! I don't care to keep going through all that.'

'You're a whinger is what you are! You think it's easier for any of us? There are no guarantees. I thought you'd realise that when your fiancée left you.'

He narrowed his eyes at her. Such dedication to his love life all of a sudden. 'You just want me to go out with Granger so she'll dedicate more time to the squib cause.'

She grinned. 'Right you are!'

He shook his head. He'd made his move and been rebuffed. He wasn't about to stalk her and be obnoxious about it.

In her chair, Pansy sighed. 'Oh, Draco, Draco, Draco... What am I going to do with you?'

* * *

Hermione hesitated outside the home that had been referred to her as a "cottage". She must have the definition of that word wrong, because last she checked, cottages weren't four times the size of her town house.

She was procrastinating.

She reminded herself that she was here on official business and briskly walked up to the front door and knocked. It was best to get this over with, after all, so she could get home and stare at the spot Platke had occupied until she'd conquered the irrational fear that Platke would pop up through the floor and attack her again.

That should take a while.

She knocked on the door again and finally heard some shuffling behind it.

She braced herself to see Malfoy, but was caught quite off-guard to see Pansy Parkinson open the door.

'Yes?' Parkinson said after Hermione had stared for a few moments.

'I'm-I'm sorry,' Hermione finally got out. 'I was under the impression that... Malfoy lived here now?' He was living with Pansy Parkinson? So shortly after he'd proposed that Hermione and he stay married?

But then again, why not? She'd said no.

'He does,' Parkinson said before raising her voice to call out, 'Draco! Funny enough, it's for you!'

'Couldn't you just take a message?' Hermione heard him irritably replying before he appeared in the door next to Pansy.

Oh. This was oddly embarrassing. She was intruding.

'This is a bad time,' she said, backing up. 'I'll just... I'll have Harry come by later instead. It wasn't important.' She was babbling, but of all the places she didn't want to be...

'Don't mind me,' Parkinson said, looking oddly like she was having fun. 'I was leaving now. I have to pick up my boy.' She turned and gave Malfoy a peck on the cheek and then strolled off, humming to herself.

The silence after she was gone was deafening.

'So,' Malfoy finally said, clearing his throat. 'You needed to see me?'

'Um, yeah. Sorry. I went by the manor first, but they said to find you here and I hadn't thought... I mean, I just thought I'd get it over with...' She wanted to stop babbling, but she couldn't seem to make it happen.

'You spoke to my mother?' he asked. 'So sorry you had to do that.'

'Actually, no. I spoke to your father. He was quite polite when he gave me this address. I didn't know that... that I'd be interrupting.'

'You weren't.'

'Ah. Still.' She looked down, mentally scolding herself for getting a lump in her throat simply from facing reality.

'But what did you need?' he prodded again.

She realised this was the second time he asked and she made an effort to pull herself together. 'Sorry. I just thought I'd tell you in person that Platke sought me out yesterday and-'

'Who's Platke?'

'Our killer.'

He looked alarmed. 'But you're ok, right?'

She shook her head. 'I'm fine.'

'Then why are you shaking your head?'

Because she was confused and upset and didn't want to be here, that was why! 'I just wanted to tell you that we caught her and that's why your protection has been called off!'

'Ah. Thank you.'

She nodded and turned on her heel, only to remember something. She stopped up and carefully slid her hand into her pocket to dig out the engagement ring. Harry had returned everything else that belonged to Malfoy, but for some reason he'd forgotten this. She took a deep breath and turned back, holding it out to Malfoy. 'Oh, and Harry forgot to give you this.'

Malfoy merely looked at it. 'I was under the impression you liked that ring.'

Hermione shrugged, going for careless. 'So?'

'So, I have no use for it. You can keep it.'

She shook her head. 'No, I can't.'

'Why? Because it's from me?'

'No, because it's not _for_ me. It's Parkinson's.'

'She doesn't want it either.'

'I'm sorry about that, but... please take it back.' She thrust it more firmly at him.

He finally, reluctantly did. 'This thing must be cursed. It keeps coming back to me.'

Hermione wasn't sure what to reply to that. If the ring hadn't been given to someone else first, she would definitely have kept it, but as it was, she could barely stand to look at it. 'I'm sure that just means you shouldn't use it again,' she said.

He snorted a laugh. 'True, I guess.'

Topic exhausted, Hermione nodded and once more turned and began walking away.

'You weren't right, you know,' he said behind her.

She stopped up but didn't turn back around. 'Right about what?'

'Pansy and me.'

Hermione felt like he'd just punched her in the stomach. Why did he have to go there?

'You're just friends,' she said. 'You told me. But you don't really have to bother.'

'You say that, yet I saw you reach a conclusion before.'

'Does it matter?'

'I guess not,' he said. 'Not if you're determined that it doesn't.'

Another topic exhausted, she took another few steps away, but then she whirled around and stalked up to Malfoy, who was leaning against his door frame, looking annoyingly arrogant. 'You don't get to say things like that!' she hissed.

'Why don't you come inside?' he said, stepping to the side.

'Why?' she eyed him suspiciously.

'Because I think we need to talk, and I'd prefer to not give my neighbours things to gossip about just yet, so please...'

Annoyed that he was suddenly being all reasonable, she strode past him, hearing him close the door behind her.

'Don't put this all on me!' she said, turning back to face him as he followed her into his sitting room.

'It _is_ all on you,' he said. 'You're the one with the irrational jealousy.'

Her jaw dropped open. 'Jealousy!' she sputtered. 'Exactly how conceited are you?'

'It's not conceited when it's true.'

'Like I care who you're sleeping with! If anything, I'm just surprised she'll have you!' She attempted to storm out, too angry and humiliated to stay any longer, but he easily blocked the door.

'Then why so upset?' he asked.

Because he'd obviously figured her out and he was using it to _mock_ her! 'Because you're an arse,' she replied, horrified to hear that her voice was choked.

'I am an arse,' he quietly said, 'but then why not just say that?'

She shrugged. 'It's not your problem.'

'What the hell is that supposed to mean?'

'It means, if it's not her, then it'll be someone else. So best to just forget about it.'

'I know it's hard to trust me. Believe me. But... all I want is for you to try.'

He looked so earnest. Obviously he didn't quite understand her dilemma.

She laughed, feeling a little crazy. No, of course he didn't understand. 'You idiot.'

'Ok...' he said, looking at her oddly.

'I don't have problems trusting you,' she said, feeling a little bitter. 'I have problems remembering what you're like!'

'Oh,' he said, his voice softening. 'I see. And it's very important to remember that?'

'Yes! If I don't...' Her voice trailed off as she couldn't put all the bad things that would happen if she didn't into words.

'If you don't, then you won't see it coming when I betray you,' he quietly supplied. 'And then it'll hurt and you'll blame yourself because you should've known better.'

'Yes!'

'But it was one mistake,' he said, sounding like he was the one tormented. 'One mistake many years ago. Is it really going to cost me you as well?'

She shook her head, telling her idiotic pounding heart to ignore the implications of what he'd said. 'You said you'd done it again!'

'I did. But only to get caught because I hated myself and couldn't allow myself to be happy. I've worked on that! I took a break and... well, got over it.'

'How does one take a break from something like that?' she asked.

He flushed a little. 'I stopped going out with witches. It's been years since I've... seen anyone.'

'Oh.' She wasn't quite sure how to take that. 'So you and me... is like a rebound from that?'

'I don't even know how to answer that, Granger.'

'How about with the truth?'

He shook his head. 'No. I think I've bared myself more than enough, considering that I don't even know where I stand with you.'

'Where you stand with me?' Her heart was pounding again, and she felt some of that extra blood flooding into her cheeks.

'Yes. Do I have anything to gain, Granger, or are you merely playing with me to soothe your own ego?'

She bit her lip and looked down at her own hands, frowning as she realised she could do with a new manicure. Her frown deepened as she chastised herself for thinking of such inconsequential matters at a time like this and tried to figure out whether it was because she suddenly genuinely cared that her nails weren't at a perfectly even length, or whether it was because her mind was procrastinating from the original question.

Malfoy sighed and sat down. 'I'm going to have to ask you to leave,' he said.

She blinked and stared at him in surprise.

'Leave!' he repeated forcefully enough to hurt her feelings. 'Now! It's not a difficult request, is it? Stop staring at me like that!'

She certainly hadn't expected to be thrown out. 'Why are you being so mean?' she asked in a small voice.

'Why am I-? What did you expect from me? You're the one using my feelings as an ego boost!'

He would admit to having feelings for her? That helped take the sting out of his words. 'I'm not.'

'Then why can't you answer a simple question?'

'Because it's not that simple a question.' She looked away, trying to find something else to focus on to minimise the gut-wrenching feeling of having to come clean. She didn't find anything suitable, though, and instead had to resort to taking a deep breath and looking straight at him. 'I intend to... that is... I plan on... I decided to stay a virgin until... you know. So, I guess, if that's what you meant, then no. I can't... won't... sleep with you, sorry.'

He stared at her for the longest time and she began squirming uncomfortably under his gaze. Any moment now he would throw her out again, she was sure. And this time, she would leave.

'You think I was talking about sex?' he finally asked, his voice not betraying any emotion.

'Weren't you?' she asked. 'I mean, don't get me wrong, I understand. You already had your fill of that whole waiting thing and all that. I just... I didn't want to lead you on by saying there was something and then... not...' Her vision was becoming a little blurry. Being honest hurt, but she owed it to herself.

'Let's say I wasn't talking about sex,' he said. 'Then what?'

She looked at him in confusion.

'Would there be something for me to gain?' he clarified.

Did he have to be quite so ruthless? She steeled herself and then forced herself to say, 'I'd go out with you.'

Again, he looked at her for a few moments, but then he sighed and said, 'No thanks.'

The words pierced her chest, rendering her almost unable to breathe. Never had she felt so humiliated in her entire life. Pride, however, kept her from voicing that and channelling it all into anger for the time being. Who did he think he was?

'I hope you had fun with that,' she said in her most chilly voice, her fingers itching to reach for her wand.

He shot her a surprised look. 'Fun? What part of that was "fun"?'

For her, not a single part. To her own great chagrin, she felt traitorous tears gathering in her eyes in spite of herself. And unfortunately, they weren't even tears of anger. 'I hope you rot!' she flung out, before she all but ran for the door.

She'd made it almost to the front door, before she felt his fingers closing around her arm, yanking her back towards him and turning her around. She tried to pull it free, but his fingers only tightened more painfully, so she attempted to stomp on his foot.

'Stop it,' he hissed, shaking her a bit. 'Don't you get it, Granger? I can't go out with you like that! I thought that maybe I could, but... I can't.'

'Then you should've said so!' She fought some more.

'I did say so, didn't I? Don't you think that I'd go along with it and pet your pride if I could?' He rested his forehead against hers, ignoring that she was struggling so hard she bumped her head against his. 'I wish I could, so badly. Please... don't be angry.'

The tears were now trailing down her face and there was nothing she could do to stop them. She couldn't even wipe them away, the way he held onto her arms. It wasn't fair that he should force her to cry in front of him after having forced her to admit she wanted to go out with him. If he didn't want her... why had he pretended he did? And why was he acting as if she wasn't the one hurt? 'Let me go,' she choked.

'In a moment,' he muttered. 'I'm not going to hurt you, just stand still for one moment, ok?'

She stood still because she had very little choice, but she was very wary about what he intended to do. Once he was satisfied that she was standing still, he hesitantly let go of her arms and then he...

... hugged her?

Hermione could make neither head nor tail of this development, but at this point she was so tired and unhappy and confused that she barely even cared.

'I love you,' he whispered, making her tense up. Was he purposefully mocking her? 'No, don't respond,' he continued. 'I only... wanted you to know.'

'Is this some kind of sick joke?' she asked, pushing him away. He went without resistance and she finally got a chance to wipe at her cheeks.

He shook his head, looking fairly subdued. 'I know it's a bit much, but... maybe then you'll understand...'

'Understand what?' she asked, shaking her head. 'You rejected me!'

He slowly nodded. 'Didn't you say that's why you couldn't be with Weasley?' he asked. 'I thought you of all people would understand that.'

'Understand _what_?'

'That I appreciate that you'd go out with me, I really do. But I'd actually hoped... for more.'

'What? Sex?'

He stared at her. 'No! Do I really have to spell it all out to you? I'd hoped you'd be in love with me! Like I said, it's not like I don't _appreciate_...'

'Oh, you idiot,' she said, slapping her palm against her forehead and allowing her knees to give way, making her sit down right in the middle of his hallway.

He stared a little uncertainly down at her. 'Are you all right?' he hesitantly asked.

'No, I'm not all right,' she replied, slowly shaking her head for emphasis.

'Can I get you anything?'

'Yes, please. I'd like a cure for being in love with a _moron_!'

He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again. 'You'd better not be talking about Weasley.'

'No, that would be the better option right now.'

He grabbed her arms - gentler this time - and hauled her to her feet. 'Then why didn't you say so!'

'I did!'

'No, you didn't!'

'It's not my fault that you don't know how to pick up on subtlety!'

'I _asked_ if I could gain anything. All you had to do was say _love_!'

'But how was I supposed to know you might want it?' she asked.

He shook his head in disbelief. 'Why wouldn't I want it?'

'You said you didn't. You said you hated being in love. You said you wanted some kind of calm, arranged, loveless marriage.'

He closed his eyes on a groan. 'I'm sorry. But now you see why I said that. We haven't been at it for more than a few minutes and... look at us. That's what relationships with me are like. I don't blame you if you decide you'd rather walk out that door.'

'Silly...' she said, reaching up and patting his cheek a little harder than she had to. 'I'll simply try to remember that you have your foot permanently lodged in your mouth. There's just one thing I should probably tell you before we continue.'

'What?' He looked wary.

'Well, I ran into "the harridan" the other day, and she was so unhappy that our wedding had been fake that I promised her that if I was ever to really get married, I'd hire her for it.'

His eyes flew open and he stared at her. 'Don't take this the wrong way,' he then said, 'but in that case, I can never marry you.'

'Don't take this the wrong way,' she replied, 'but in that case, you're never having sex again.'

He winced. 'Maybe we should just get it over with, then?'

She snorted a laugh. 'Not on your life! I don't just randomly marry people all the time, you know. One wedding per year is by far enough for me.'

'Do I at least get a kiss?' he asked.

She was about to deliver a quip when she realised that this time he wasn't really joking. All amusement was gone from his face and instead he merely looked hopeful. Without thinking, she wet her lips, making his eyes darken slightly as he watched her. It made her feel oddly powerful. She carefully stepped closer to him and placed her hands on his shoulders, whilst he mutely continued to watch her, and then she reached up, almost but not quite meeting his lips with her own. It didn't take many seconds before his lips found hers and she could feel how much she'd missed him as every fiber of her being just wanted to reach out to him and pull him closer and not let go. She put her arms around his neck and held on tightly, letting her lips and tongue caress his over and over again.

Finally, he pulled free. 'Merlin, Granger,' he murmured, breathing more heavily.

With a thoughtful pursing of her lips, Hermione innocently said, 'Not that it really matters or anything, but how long do you reckon it is until the first of January?'

* * *

**Author's Note:** This is the end. I hope you enjoyed yourself. :) If you're curious about what the other RC fics (and arts!) might be, go to Hawthorn & Vine and find the Reverse Challenge tag. Until next time.


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